A Marriage of Convenience
by Wisdom's Pearl
Summary: The war took a massive toll on Ruth Abernathy and her family, making it impossible for them to hold onto the life they knew before the war. When her aunt runs out of money and has to sell the farm, Ruth is left without a place to go but Jean Villeneuve agrees to marry her for her safety and her future. Will they fall in love or be trapped in a marriage of convenience?
1. A Convenient Arrangement

**Hello. This is a story I have had a concept of for awhile. I thought I'd give it a go. Also, seeing how there aren't many Jean fanfics out there, I am adding another one because, let's be honest, he's a pretty awesome character and there is a lot of room to develop his back story. I've always believed he doesn't get enough love. **

**A Convenient Marriage**

**Chapter 1: A Convenient Arrangement**

Ruth Abernathy could remember the day that the war had taken its greatest price from her. It was oddly quiet when her cousin drove the wagon down the forest path which led to Pembroke. He stopped the wagon to check on one of the horses. Ruth walked around the wagon to stretch her legs, looking up at the sky to see black smoke in the sky above the trees. John discovered his horse had a broken shoe but thought it would be fine for the couple of miles they had left to go. He would have a blacksmith fix one for him once he got there. Ruth hopped back into the wagon and they continued on.

However, when they reached Pembroke, the sight before them was confusing. The church was freshly burnt down. There were still red glowing embers and the smoke had not dissipated. No one was seen and the town was perfectly quiet. Ruth jumped off the wagon and ran to her brother's shop. She knew he would be there that time of day but everything was still. It was then that Ruth had heard horses in the distance and men shouting from outside the shop. She looked out the window to see who they were. She recognized them. It was Mr. Martin and his men. Before she could react her cousin John ran into the shop and grabbed her by the arm.

"What's happening?" she shouted at him but he didn't answer. He opened the door of her family home and walked her inside.

"You need to grab everything of value and pack it," he pushed through some tears. He didn't know why that would be his automatic response to the situation. He wasn't thinking straight. Ruth stood still and looked outside. It suddenly hit her what happened. She looked out the window and could see a lock hanging from one of the freshly charred doors. She walked back outside and John sat down on a chair. He couldn't move. Ruth stood looking at the church as she held onto the white picket gate, trying to gather her thoughts. She saw some of the men had begun to pick bodies out of the ashes.

Dan Scott, her second cousin, picked something out of the ashes that he recognized next to a body. He looked back at Ruth who was now sitting on the ground, no doubt in complete shock. He held the small watch in his hand and shook his head. He reluctantly walked out of the rubble and towards Ruth. She looked up at him when his shadow blocked the sun. Her face was red from crying. He crouched down and handed her the watch. It was her brother's. She had been living with her brother and his wife after their father and his second wife, her mother, had caught fever. She was only seven at the time. That watch had come with her to Pembroke. It was a gift of gratitude from their father to her brother for agreeing to take her in. She had dealt with loss before but now that she was older, it hurt more. She understood its complexities and it crushed her.

John found someone to help fix the horse shoe in a nearby town. A blacksmith agreed to help John for free. It was the least he could do. A couple of Mr. Martin's men stayed behind to help pick up the pieces in Pembroke. Ruth enlisted the help of a couple of them to pack up her family belongings and load them into the wagon John left behind. She didn't try to talk to any of the men who decided to help. She was overcome with grief. She didn't even ask them their names. She just did what had to be done and they understood. John returned with the horse and took Ruth to her aunt and uncle's farm, an entire day's journey away. It would be six years before the war ended and Ruth saw Pembroke again.

…

The war ended in 1783, leaving her aunt a widow. Ruth was twenty-four by then and her aunt had no money left to care for her. The war had left men scarce for the choosing. Ruth hadn't even found the time to think of romance while the war was raging but she knew that someday she would have to marry in order to not be a burden. She found herself, during the war, busy mending buttons and holes in the uniforms of bands of soldiers and militia men who stopped to rest and set up camp for a night. Occasionally a group of red coats would show up and her aunt, to avoid trouble, would feed them while Ruth nervously sewed whatever was thrown at her. Her aunt would try to coax her to flirt with some of the American soldiers from time to time. She hoped that maybe Ruth would be engaged and could marry and have a life once the war ended. However, Ruth didn't flirt with any of them. She kept to herself, hiding away while she sewed, not making eye contact with them out of the fear of having something worse done to her. She could have flirted but she didn't see the purpose in it. As far as she knew, the man would be dead in a week and the soldiers didn't have long term commitment on their minds when they were close to meeting their maker.

She found that war left no time for anything. When it was over and her cousin John returned, things were never the same. He took to the bottle and withdrew from life. The farm began to fall apart without her uncle. Ruth and her aunt tried to keep it up but slowly and surely the pigs, horses, sheep, and cows disappeared as they were sold to make due. The farming equipment went in different directions, sold for a smaller price than they were worth. The land remained untilled and the ground was fallow. This made her aunt grow desperate, and two years after the war had ended, it caused her to write Ruth's great aunt for help. Ruth was by then twenty six.

The little woman hobbled up the steps with her walking stick and shooed John away when he clumsily tried to help her. Ruth was placing a bowl of thin biscuits on the table when her great aunt came into the room.

"Oh dear," the little woman said with a snarky tone as she looked over at Ruth's other aunt, "Been having trouble keeping the place clean, Anna?"

The woman sighed and turned around to tend to the oven, choosing to forget the woman's comment. She was tired. Ruth smiled at her aunt as she sat down in a chair.

"Ruth, dear, do you know why I'm here?"

"Aunt Anna told me you were just paying a visit," Ruth replied innocently, "Is there a motive behind your visit I wasn't told about?"

"Ruth," her Aunt Anna spoke up, motioning for her to sit down, "It's about time I told you. I have to sell the farm, dear."

Ruth looked down at her apron and tried not to cry with the sudden realization. It wasn't too bad, she convinced herself. She had had bigger shocks in her life than the selling of a farm. She had never felt a deep connection to the place. It had always served as a reminder of loss.

"Where will you go?" she asked her Aunt Anna after a couple minutes of silence.

"She will stay with me," her great Aunt spoke up, "I need extra help about the place anyhow."

Ruth looked down at her hands and then realized something, "Then, what of me?"

Her aunts glanced at one another.

"You're young," her Aunt Anna said as she saw that Ruth knew what was coming. Before the girl could protest, she raised her voice higher, "well, not really, you're twenty six. Ruth, it's high time you married. I don't have the money to care for you. John has to make his own way. What are you going to do? Sew to make a living?"

Ruth crunched her eyebrows together in frustration, displaying her feelings, "Marry? Oh please, aunty, there are no men about for me to marry. It would take me far too long to find someone."

"Yes, well-" her great aunt said reluctantly, "I've made arrangements for you to solve this."

Ruth stood up as she smelt the food burning in the fireplace, "What do you-"

"Perhaps you should sit down again," her great aunt chimed in. Ruth turned around and sat back down slowly.

"I have found someone who has agreed to marry you," her great aunt bluntly said once Ruth had finally settled into the chair. Ruth's reaction wasn't the one she expected. She thought the girl would give up some fight.

Ruth looked out the window and saw her cousin drunkenly stumbling out of his chair to head inside. She knew her only way to survive now was through marriage. She felt a bit reluctant but looked back at her aunts, who were nervously fidgeting as they waited to hear her answer.

"Is he a good man?" she finally asked.

"I believe so," her great aunt said, "I've only met him a couple times. He owns land near Mr. Martin. You remember him?"

"Yes," Ruth said as she tried to push back the memory of Pembroke again.

"Well, this man has a new home and no wife to help fill it," the old woman said, "What do you say?"

Ruth sighed. When she was younger she never knew this was how it would happen. She always had imagined, before the war, that she would fall in love and then marry. This seemed so strange and out of order to her but it was not the first time this sort of marriage had taken place, she knew.

"I guess I have no other choice given the circumstances," Ruth finally answered. Her aunts sighed in relief.

"There is one thing you should know so you're not shocked," her great aunt chuckled. Ruth cringed, thinking her aunt was finally going to tell her the downside once she agreed. What was it going to be? Ruth thought to herself.

"He's French," the woman finally said. Ruth's expression loosened. That's all? she thought.

"Why would that worry me?" Ruth asked in confusion. She looked at the women and something didn't seem right. Her aunts looked as if they were holding something back and Ruth had just began to feel a little uncomfortable about what she had agreed to.


	2. An Awkward Wedding

**Chapter 2: An Awkward Wedding**

When the farm was sold and everything was in order, Ruth, her cousin, and her aunt Anna made their way to Pembroke on their old rickety wagon which was pulled by an old donkey they couldn't sell. It would be a day's journey without rest but they made the journey quite easily. Ruth's heart raced when she knew they were close. She felt nervous and worried at what was going to happen. The wheels creaked and every bump in the road almost sent Ruth flying, making her feel worse. Her cousin John was actually sober and was able to steer the donkey well. He wasn't able to talk much though. He was in a horrid mood and she knew it was because of the surfacing memories he had pushed down with alcohol. They were all silent and when the smoke stacks of the chimneys were visible, they knew they were very close. To Ruth's surprise the town was busy again. She didn't recognize anyone until she saw her cousin Dan Scott. they stopped the wagon in front of his home and he rushed towards the wagon, helping her down.

"Aunt Mary has been busy today," he told her, "she has something for you."

Ruth's great aunt was standing at the top of the stairs. She motioned for her to come up and Ruth slowly ascended the narrow stairway. She heard commotion in the kitchen. Women were rushing around in the house cooking for the wedding. When she finally made it upstairs, she saw her aunt in a small bedroom. Light flooded into the room and she saw a dress on the bed.

"It was your mother's," her Aunt Mary said as she watched Ruth carefully examine it, "She wore it on her wedding day. I found it in a chest when you sent your valuables ahead with me to Pembroke."

Ruth sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the dress, draping it over her lap.

"Are you alright, dear?" her aunt asked. She leaned on her cain and looked down at Ruth.

"Oh-" Ruth tried to collect herself but she couldn't lie to her aunt, "no."

"He is a good man," her aunt said.

"I hope."

"What is bothering you?" she asked her niece as she sat next to her. She saw a tear on her cheek.

"I'm trying to be alright with this, I am," she cried, "it just seems so strange to me."

"My marriage was arranged," her aunt informed her, "It isn't so terrible. It may work out."

"Why is he agreeing to this?" Ruth finally asked. It made her wonder.

"He thought it would be the best thing to do," she answered, "he wants to help."

"He couldn't find a wife for himself?"

"He did find a wife," he aunt chuckled, "he went about it in a different way. Now, lets get you cleaned up and dressed."

Ruth placed the dress aside and stood up. A couple of women came upstairs with buckets of hot water and began pouring it into a deep, round wooden tub which had been dragged into the room. It looked more like a giant bucket than a tub, in Ruth's opinion. One of the women was Dan's new wife. He had married three years after Pembroke. They didn't have children yet but Dan's being away during the war kept that from happening sooner. They helped her undress and took her clothes downstairs. She only had one dress left and it was a little worn. Ruth had tried to keep it up with her sewing but farm work had worn it rough. She saw a new corset and underskirts laying on a chair. She stepped into the tub and the women left. She looked out the window and watched the clouds pass by.

She was nervous, as was expected, and tried to calm her nerves. She slumped into the water and submerged herself. She held her breath. Under the surface, she couldn't hear anything and it helped her collect her thoughts. She heard her heart beat begin to slow down and she began to see things in perspective. The task ahead of her was necessary. She couldn't be a burden to her aunt. Her cousin John needed to make his own way and her great aunt couldn't take two new people into her home. Ruth resurfaced, wiped the water off her face and pushed her red hair back. She felt cleaner and a bit lighter. Her Aunt Anna came in and held up a thick blanket for Ruth to wrap herself in as she dried off by the fireplace. Her Aunt Mary combed through the mass of thick curls and waited for Ruth's hair to dry before she pulled it back into a simple bun. Ruth was dressed in her new underskirts and corset and her aunts helped to put the dress on. It was made of a beautiful cream silk. Little flowers and leaves were embroidered on the bottom and a small amount of delicate lace adorned the sleeves and the collar. The stomacher had an elaborate embroidered scene of two birds.

It had been brought from England by her mother. Her marriage to Ruth's father had happened in the same way. Their families wrote letters back and forth until her father finally wrote a letter to her mother, asking for her hand in marriage. It did seem to be a bit odd but it was how most of her family ended up marrying. However, Ruth's half brother married for love. He had met his wife when he was in Charlestown. His marriage had always been an example to Ruth. She had always wanted to meet her husband and fall in love before marriage but the war ended up changing her mind about a lot of things.

…

Jean Villeneuve thought he was insane for going along with it. He had decided, when the war ended, to return to France. However, a year later, he returned to America, having sold his fine home. He had heard on the wind rumors of a revolution in France and being a member of an aristocratic family, he decided it might be wise to leave. He didn't like France any longer. He had nothing to cling to there. He bought land from Ben Martin and built a home. It was after a little while that it felt very empty. When Ben got the impression that Jean was actually lonely, things started happening. Charlotte knew Mary Sanders, an old woman who lived a few miles away. When Mary was visiting one day, Charlotte heard about Ruth. When Jean heard their little plan he thought it was insanity. He knew it wasn't uncommon for such marriages to happen but he didn't think it was fair for her. However, he heard about her situation again and decided that he would go along with it if she agreed.

Ben smirked when he saw Jean fumbling a bit with his cravat. He was nervous too. Ruth was most likely more on edge than him but it wasn't a situation that merited being calm.

"You're fine," Ben said in agitation when Jean readjusted his cravat again. Jean didn't say anything in return and sat down. Dan Scott came into the house and joined them at the table.

"The women are taking their time," he chuckled, "you know how they are about these things."

"What on earth could be taking so long?" Ben asked, "Is Charlotte fussing over her?"

"How did you know?" Dan laughed. Charlotte had in fact fussed over Ruth when she went downstairs after being dressed. She was straightening and polishing Ruth's appearance. She even undid Ruth's bun and braided her hair into a more complicated style, pinning it back into a more beautiful bun.

"I know my wife," Ben said. The men looked over at Jean, who was sweating.

"My cousin is a good woman," Dan reassured him, "you're more nervous than her I think."

….

Ruth sat in a chair at the dining table as her aunts and Charlotte sat at the table. All the married women rushed to join. Ruth knew what was coming.

"Just so you're not surprised," one woman said. They all had huge smiles. Ruth shook her head, "I know this already, Aunt Mary."

"Oh?" her aunt asked. Her heart skipped a beat. It may have been possible with all those visits from soldiers that Ruth had not held into her chastity.

"I worked on a farm for six years," she said blushing, "you don't exactly remain innocent about the ways of life when you help birth calfs."

"Those are animals, dear," her aunt laughed in relief. Ruth wasn't ignorant about that one part of life. Her sister-in-law had explained it to her when she was younger. She never really thought of it but she knew it was important. However, she imagined that it would be with a man she loved. The beauty of life just seemed dull without love. Ruth did feel a bit nervous about it because it wasn't how she imagined her life being. She didn't even know at that point if she would wish for him to touch her. She did know it was imminent. Ruth thought this custom was insane. All the married women gathering around to tell the virgin bride about what to expect seemed a bit too personal.

After everything was said and done Ruth was led outside. She was handed a small bouquet of wild flowers that had most likely been picked from a nearby field. Her aunts led her to the newly rebuilt church as the women followed. Ruth stopped and looked at it. It was just as it had been before that awful day but it made her realize how fortunate she had been not to be in the town that day but it made her wonder if it was truly how things should have been.

Jean leaned forward to see her. The doors were open and he could see her standing amongst the large group of women as some of them fussed over her appearance. She had bright red hair and pale skin. She was beautiful but younger than he expected her to be. No one told him her age. He didn't think to ask. It hardly seemed like the biggest concern, given the situation. However, it struck him that there may be an issue on her part when she saw him. He suddenly wondered if she had been informed that he was twice her age.

Ruth nervously looked into the church. She could barely see in as the sun was too bright. She finally stepped inside and looked at the man she was to marry. She then knew what her aunt hadn't told her. He was twice her age at least. His hair was dark grey and silver. He wasn't horrible looking. He was surprisingly handsome. She had thought that he would probably be unattractive but she was still willing to marry even if that were the case. However, his age, probably being near fifty, seemed a bit daunting to her.

She saw a few familiar faces speckled throughout the pews. It comforted her a bit. Her cousin Dan was sitting on the first row with his new wife. Her aunts took a seat next to them as Ruth reached the front. The preacher knew the situation and watched as the soon to be husband and wife nervously took each others hands. Ruth looked out the doors of the church as the preacher read scripture. The option to run was very presentable at that moment. She didn't know that the same thoughts were rushing through Jean's mind. They both finally made eye contact with one another when the minister finished and Jean gave her an awkward peck on the cheek. The clapping that ensued from the crowd brought Ruth back into the moment but Jean could still feel her hands shaking a bit.

…

The music was loud and the mood was merry in the tavern after the wedding. Jean was sitting at a table quietly while everyone around him was dancing and eating. He looked out the door to see his new wife standing on the porch. She was looking up at the night sky. Her red hair was still bright despite the low lamplight of the lantern that hung above her. He got up to join her. Within the three hours they had known one another, not a single word had been passed between them.

Ruth was tapping her fingers on her leg to the rhythm of the music while she looked up at the sky. The stars were beautiful. She was trying to take her mind off the task ahead of her. She suddenly felt a presence behind her and turned around, letting out a startled gasp.

"Sorry," were Jean's first words to her. It seemed oddly fitting, Ruth thought.

"You're alright."

They awkwardly fumbled a bit and stood next to each other, looking up at the stars. they didn't feel uncomfortable near one another but the situation made for an awkward time. He didn't even know her age. She didn't even know his. They were strangers at that moment, brought together by convenience. Jean knew he had done the right thing but he wanted her to know she could leave if she wanted. He didn't know how to go about saying it, however, without sounding cold or demeaning. The truth was, he wanted a wife but most were married and he hadn't found the time.

"Lovely night," Jean said to break the silence.

"Yes," Ruth replied. She knew they would eventually be able to speak freely with one another but the process was grueling.


	3. Uncomfortable Conversations

**Chapter 3: Uncomfortable Conversations**

They were staying with her cousin until the next day to rest for the journey back. However, this made it even more strange for Ruth. To consummate a marriage in her cousin's home bothered her. Ruth and Jean stood on their side of the bed and faced each other. She looked up at the ceiling beams and he pulled back the blanket. He tried to keep his focus. Her nightgown was distracting him. Apparently her cousin's wife thought it would be fitting to make her one but the cotton was too thin. Ruth began to wonder if she did it on purpose. She finally sat on the edge of the bed and and listened to the ropes creak as he followed. It seemed as if an eternity passed before she laid down and pulled the blanket over herself. They laid in the bed and stared upwards. Everything had finally calmed down below their room as people left and the Scott family settled in. Silence was all they could hear until the faint sound of Dan's snoring drifted through the walls. The candles were burning low and all the newlyweds could do was twiddle their thumbs. Ruth caught Jean awkwardly glancing at her for a few short seconds.

Ruth was incredibly nervous. Jean looked over at her hands. They were wringing the blanket. He knew that it would be impossible to do anything at that moment. He wasn't the type of man to force himself on a woman and he knew that, though she was only willing because they were married, she was secretly wishing it didn't have to happen. He tried to advance towards her to test the waters and placed his hand on her thigh. Her initial reaction was to stiffen up and she clenched the blankets. He let out a sigh of frustration and took his hand off of her. He laid down again and after a moment he rolled over, blowing out his candle before going to sleep. Ruth felt an odd relief but questions began to ripple through her mind. Was he incapable? Perhaps her aunt had lied to her about that too. Perhaps he was impotent and she was doomed to a life of a celibate marriage. Her mind rushed with endless possibilities and she didn't get any sleep that night. She was confused but didn't know her body language had discouraged him.

…

The next morning her aunt took her by the hands and looked he in the eyes, shaking her head. Ruth awkwardly looked away from her. She wished this wasn't the conversation she had to have.

"Sarah informed me there was no blood on the sheets this morning," her aunt chided her. Ruth uncomfortably groaned and tried to escape the clutch of her aunt, which had tightened.

"You need to consummate the marriage, dear," she was gripping Ruth's hands so tight, she swore she saw her skin turning whiter than it already was, "It isn't completely sealed until you are with child."

"It wasn't me," Ruth finally squeaked, "he didn't do anything."

Her aunt let go of her niece's hands and Ruth sighed in relief, rubbing them.

"Well, make him. Be quick about it," her aunt said as she smacked the tip of her cain on the wood slats of the porch, "it is your good Christian duty as a wife." They grew silent when Jean opened the door and came out onto the porch. He saw Ruth rubbing her hands and her aunt gave him a shriveling glare. He stood perfectly still, questioning why he was frightened of a little old woman who was only half his height.

"Are you alright?" he asked Ruth,trying to take he hands in his to look at them when her aunt has disappeared. Ruth didn't look at him and jerked her hands away from his, quickly walking away. He immediately knew it was about what had happened the night before. He had already read it in Sarah's body language when he watched her change the sheets in the morning. She had lifted the blanket and dropped it when she saw no evidence. She had looked at him in confusion and all he had been doing at that moment was shining his boots as he sat in a chair in the corner. It had had thrown him into a worried state.

…..

The Martin wagons were packed up with Ruth's belongings for their departure. It would be a two day's journey to the Martin farm. Both of Ben's wagons were also packed up with the children. They trailed behind Jean's small two person carriage and made their way home. After the first day, only five words had been traded between the newlyweds. The night they stopped to rest at an Inn, things began to pick up for them.

They sat at a small table in the corner of the Inn and watched as a group of men sang a tune about war and how the English had been crushed. Amongst the commotion Charlotte found her way to the chair next to the young woman. Ruth knew her aunt had told her what was happening. Ruth clapped her hands to the song and tried to ignore how Charlotte was struggling to find the words she wanted to say.

"Would you prefer a better place to have this conversation Mrs. Martin?" Ruth whispered over to her. She continued clapping. Ruth saw that Ben had planted himself next to Jean.

_Honestly, do they anything better to worry about? _Ruth wondered_. _However, she understood why they were concerned. An unconsummated marriage, at least in the eyes of everyone around her, was not truly a marriage. she felt Charlotte's delicate hand reach over and tap her arm. She motioned for Ruth to follow her. She winked at Ben, who tried to act like he didn't know what was happening. The look Ruth shot back at him made him put his hands up as if he was clean of the whole incident.

Charlotte had pulled ruth upstairs into the room she was staying in with her family and sat Ruth down at a chair.

"I know this subject may be a bit-" Charlotte began.

"Uncomfortable," Ruth finished her sentence.

"I was going to say indelicate, but-" Charlotte stalled, "Are you alright? Do you know-"

Ruth pursed her lips together and nodded. She wasn't an idiot. She didn't know why she being treated as such.

"I was terrified on my wedding night with my first husband," Charlotte said bluntly.

"Why does everyone assume I am terrified of the act God ordained between a husband and wife?" Ruth defended herself, "I am not a delicate flower. I worked a farm for six years. During the war, I saw a man's leg taken off his body. I had to help the doctor hold him down. I've seen war, for goodness sake! and no one acknowledges that I am not this weak defenseless little-"

Charlotte shrunk back. That was the temper Ruth's aunt had warned her of, "no, I never questioned that."

Ruth calmed herself down and took deep breaths.

"I'm just inquiring as to what the problem may be," Charlotte finally spoke up after Ruth had gotten ahold of herself.

"I just wish that everyone stop blaming the wife as if its her problem and not her husband's," Ruth muttered.

"I am not blaming you, dear," Charlotte offered her her hand to comfort her. Ruth obligingly took it.

"I am just uncomfortable with the situation," Ruth said as she released her hand from Charlotte's and left the room. She made her way to the room she and Jean were staying in and planted herself on the bed to cool her temper, waiting for her husband.

…

Jean inched the bridge of his nose and hung his head down when Ben finally said what he was thinking. The way his friend shook his head told him it was a useless conversation.

"I'm sorry I brought it up," Ben laughed, "my wife insisted."

Jean shook his head, "non, Ruth is just- she's terrified of me and I don't want to-"

"Well, I don't know what these women are so concerned with," Ben laughed, "listen to me, if Ruth is not receptive then take your time together. Perhaps your marriage is in need of courtship."

Jean looked over to see Charlotte coming down the stairs. She frustratingly plopped down in a chair next to Ben.

"Watch out for her temper," Charlotte muttered.

Jean looked over at her, "consider me warned."

He stood up and placed a couple coins on the table to pay for his drink and made his way upstairs. He was tired and the loud noise was frustrating him. When he opened the door of the room, he saw Ruth sitting up on the bed in her nightgown. Her eyes were wider than a doe's. She looked as if she had been through hell. Her red hair was undone. She didn't braid it when she slept. Jean tried not to chuckle. Her massive amount of red hair was puffed about and made her look like a lion sitting in wait. It was incredibly curly and she found it difficult to comb.

She was sitting awkwardly as if she was trying to get his attention. He shook his head and took his boots off.

_She's trying too hard,_ he thought to himself. She let out a massively frustrated sigh and hit the bed, plopping her head down on the pillow. She sat up and watched him as he sat down and placed one of his boots over his leg, prepping his shining kit which had been laid out earlier that night. She noted how shiny they had been earlier that day. Not a spot was on them. They were incredibly immaculate but traveling had made them dusty.

"I've never seen a man shine his boots the way you do," she suddenly broke the ice between them.

Jean responded, "When you are called to court, you are expected to be perfect."

"To court?" Ruth was stunned, "To the Royal court?"

"Yes," he said, nodding his head. He picked up a brush and took it to his boot, taking off the dirt and mud of the day.

Ruth didn't know what else to say. She picked up the thick cotton dressing robe which she had also received from her cousin's wife and put it on, sitting on the dye of the bed. All that could be heard in the room was the brush as it cleaned Jean's boot.

"I know this isn't ideal," he finally broke the silence. Ruth was shocked. She suddenly looked him in the eyes for the longest she ever had.

"I agreed to it," she assured him, "I wasn't forced. The question is why did you do it?"

"I'm not a young man," he said bluntly motioning to the silver stubble growing out of his chin, "Most of the women my age are married."

"And they can't bear sons," she whispered. He barely caught what she said and looked over at her. Ruth smiled subtly. She laid down and rested her head on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. She laid there for a few moments and felt herself slipping into the salvation of sleep, rescuing her from forced conversation.

…

Jean built a fine brick home a little over a mile away from the Martins. It took two years to finish. It had two levels, a large dining room, four bedrooms, and a fireplace in every room. There were nine windows perfectly lined up at the front of the home. The door was a bright red color and the porch was painted white. It wrapped around the home and provided good shade on sunny days.

When Ruth saw the house, her heart stopped. It was much more than she had expected and she knew why her great aunt had been so bent upon the union. The wagons stopped and she heard the younger Martin children shouting as they hopped out and ran about, playing. Jean helped Ruth out and she opened the gate of the white picketed fence. She tried to offer to help with the trunks but Charlotte took her arm in hers and walked with her to the front door.

Ruth stood on the front porch of her new home, looking in. Her trunks were carried in by Ben and his sons. She rested her hand on the frame of the door and stepped over the threshold. It was time for her to run her own home. It felt strange. She looked about to see books piled on tables, furniture was still covered in sheets, and it looked quite desolate. The sun shining into the dark entry hall showed the dust floating about. She looked up the grand staircase but before she could head upstairs, she was distracted by a loud crash. She ran into the parlor to see Nathan and Samuel Martin looking down at the box they dropped. It was Ruth's box full of porcelain tea cups which she had inherited from her mother. Two were broken on the floor. The young men's faces were paler than chalk as they looked at her. Jean stooped down and picked up the box carefully. Ruth looked as if she was ready to cry. He thought he could console her by saying he could replace the pieces, but he caught himself, realizing how irreplaceable those cups were. There had been ten but now there were only eight. He carefully placed the box on a nearby table.

Nathan and Samuel were completely silent and watched as Ruth crouched down to pick up the pieces. She sighed and placed them beside the wood box the boys had dropped. She decided to move on and not to worry about it. It wasn't the only thing she had inherited from her mother. She still had eight cups, she reminded herself. That was plenty.

She continued to walk about the house and inspect it. She noticed the furniture hardly had a place in the home. It was very ornate, she thought. It wasn't like the style she knew. The clean lines of the furniture she had grown up with were not present. There were curves and carvings on the armoires and chairs. The furniture in the parlor was upholstered in a fine silk fabric. She had no idea where it had come from and it was alien to her. It was so fine of quality, she was afraid to touch it.

Jean could see his bride looking about the house with a look of confusion. She was examining the gilding on an old armoir Jean had sent for from his old manor. He had sold most of his belongings in France but had held onto a few pieces. He imagined that she was in shock to see it.

Charlotte flicked a sheet off a settee in the drawing room and dust came flying about. She coughed and shook her head at Jean. He didn't know how to respond.

"Thankfully for you, this will stop," Charlotte said as she fluffed the cushion of the settee. Jean left the room to help with setting things up and Ruth found her way into the room after he left. Charlotte motioned for her sit down and rest. Margaret Martin, Ben's twenty year old daughter, was sitting in a chair nearby. It was a rocking chair her father had made as a gift for Jean when his home was finally finished. She was rocking gleefully back and forth. Ruth joined them. She was not used to resting. She hadn't had the luxury to do so for years.

"So, is it to your liking?" Margaret asked. Ruth smiled but she didn't know what to say.

"It's bigger than I expected," Ruth stated bluntly. Charlotte chuckled as she watched Ruth's eyes jut about the room as she took it in.


	4. A New Home

**Thanks for the reviews guys! I was a little unsure about this story when I posted it but thank you for the encouragement. Keep a look out for a few more chapters in the next couple days.**

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**Chapter 4: A New Home**

Ruth had finally made it upstairs. She peered into each of the rooms and saw that they were empty. All except one, however. A four posted bed, with lovely floral tapestry curtains hung about it, was the focal point of the main bedroom. She walked in and saw that it was nicely furnished and comfortable, which the other rooms were not. She sat on the bed and laid down, tiredly closing her eyes for what she thought would only be a second.

When she woke up, the sun was setting. She could hear laughter downstairs and she knew the Martins were still there. She didn't mind it. She worried about what would happen once they left. She didn't want to be alone in that huge house with the stranger she called her husband. She stood up quickly, shaking her exhaustion from herself, and made her way downstairs. Charlotte smiled when she saw her.

"We figured you'd need a little shut eye," she said jovially, "it's been quite a long day. Abigail made dinner for us all as a welcome home gift for Jean."

Ruth was a bit confused. _Who is Abigail? _she asked herself. She heard the Martin brood in the dining room, clattering about. She heard porcelain clinking and could smell something amazing. She saw who she assumed was Abigail, barrel out of the downstairs kitchen, carrying a platter with a large piece of meat on it.

"You need to eat something. It's been a long journey for all of ya," Abigail said to her sternly before looking over at Charlotte and whispering, "poor girl been through some things, I'm not let tin' her run this house alone."

Ruth looked a bit confused. Charlotte chuckled and Ruth saw another young woman coming out of the kitchen with a bowl of biscuits.

Her name was Laura. She was Occum's wife. They had married shortly after the war and Jean gave Occum some of his land. He built a very small home and farmed there.

Occum gave Ruth a little fright when she turned around and saw him towering above her. He tipped his hat and Laura handed him the bowl, sternly telling him to put it on the table. She was rushing about, trying to do things too quickly. Ruth looked as if she wanted to jump in and help but Charlotte took her arm and led her into the dining room.

Everyone was crowded around the large table, elbow to elbow. They were eagerly waiting for Abigail to tell them everything was ready and once she placed the last dish on the table, all the Martin boys grasped at the biscuits. Ben was trying to control them but it was of no use. It took Occum to lift them and keep them from crawling over the table. Ruth couldn't blame them. They were famished.

"So, Mrs. Villeneuve," Nathan spoke up and addressed Ruth, "are you ready to run such a big house?"

"I think I can manage," Ruth answered. Abigail shook her head.

"Not under my watch," she said as she handed a bowl to the youngest little Martin girl, "Laura will help ya."

"I don't-"

"You gonna need help with this place," Abigail chuckled. Ruth didn't fight her. Laura smirked over at Ruth and winked at her, nodding to assure her it was all right.

….

Ruth sat on the edge of the bed and watched Jean as he shined his boots again. She flipped back the blankets but stalled before she laid down. She looked back at him and decided not to go to sleep. Things had been so strained between them, she knew that something needed to change.

"Why did you leave France?" she asked him. He slowed down the motion of his brush and stopped after a moment. The question was a tough one for him to answer.

"I had nothing to keep me there," he said bluntly. He placed down his boot and picked up the other.

"Did you have any family back in France?"

"Non," he answered, "I did-"

Ruth was a bit startled by his answer. She watched him as he sat perfectly still looking down at his boot. His brushing movement had stopped completely. He was deep in thought. Ruth wrung her hands and tried to deal with the tension in the air. She looked above the fireplace and saw three small round watercolors hanging above the mantle. It was a woman with blonde hair and two smaller portraits of young girls were hung on each side. She stood up and walked over. Jean had placed his polishing kit away. He joined her as she stood by the fireplace and placed his boots down. She was taking a closer look at the small portraits.

"Who are they?" she asked curiously. Jean's jovial look completely faded away. She suddenly realized it was a bit too soon to ask that question. She turned away and walked back to the bed but she felt his hand gently grab her elbow.

"My wife and daughters," he said once she decided to rejoin him. He pointed at the portrait of the woman.

"Her name was Margot," he said as he moved his finger to point at the other portraits, "and they were Pauline and Violet."

"What happened?" Ruth asked solemnly.

"They were coming to stay in America for a short while but before the ship made it to shore-" Jean stalled for a moment, "a british ship fired on it."

Ruth stood in stunned silence. He looked at the portraits a bit longer and turned away. He headed to the bed and laid down. Ruth stood there a little longer and looked at the portrait of his late wife. She was beautiful, Ruth admitted. She couldn't understand why no one had told her this.

Jean blew out his candle and after awhile he fell fast asleep. Ruth couldn't though. She wandered out of the bedroom with a candle in her hand and decided to walk downstairs. It was eerily silent and the floorboards creaked under her weight. She placed the candle down on a table in the parlor and looked about at the piles of dusty books. She knew what had to be done. One of the bedrooms had to be used as a library, she thought to herself. She didn't know how long it would take to move them. There were so many books, she decided to put that task aside until she had more help.

She found where most of her trunks had been carefully laid in a corner. She took the candle with her and set it on the floor beside her as she knelt down and sat. She opened one of the trunks and looked inside. She hadn't opened it in years. The trunks had sat untouched in her room at her aunt's. They were the only things her aunt refused to sell for money. She looked into it and saw some finely sewn quilts inside. She picked them out and laid them beside herself. She stroked the stitching her grandmother had done. She looked back in and saw that between the quilts there had been placed some portraits of her family members. They were small watercolors like the ones on Jean's mantle. She picked them up and inspected them. One was a wedding portrait of her mother and another of her father. She smiled and placed them in her lap and picked up the others. She picked up the candle and carefully tucked the small framed in her arm before heading back upstairs. She headed to the mantle and placed them beside Jean's.

She decided to wait until the morning to tell him who they were. She was sure he would be a bit confused as to who they were. She headed to the bed and tucked herself in. She looked at the back of Jean's head and slowly fell asleep.


	5. Common Ground

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**Chapter 5: Common Ground**

Gunshots made Ruth fling out of bed and onto the floor. Her heart was racing incredibly fast but it was over quickly. She laid on the floor for a few moments and collected herself. She sat up and peered over the bed to see that Jean was not there. She got up off the floor and headed to the window, where she saw birds flying in massive flocks back into the trees after a massive fright. She knew it was nothing more than hunters. She figured she would not be able to go back to sleep after that jolt.

She looked over down at her wedding dress, which was draped over a chair. It was the only piece of clothing she owned. She didn't know what to do. She headed downstairs after dressing and saw Laura looking up at her in shock.

"Not ready to put that dress in storage, Mrs. Villeneuve?" Laura joked.

Ruth looked down at it and sighed. She wouldn't be able to get anything done dressed like that. Their exchange was interrupted suddenly. Her and Laura looked up when the door flung open. Occum had a dear slung over his shoulders. Laura gasped.

"How dare you come in here with that thing," she chided the men, "you gonna track blood all over the floors? I just cleaned them this morning!"

Occum laughed and followed her down into the kitchen. Everyone could still hear her talking about it. She had done a wonderful job with the floors, Ruth noted, but there were a couple blood spots by the door. Ruth groaned when she saw it. She couldn't do anything about it. Her dress could be ruined if she did.

Jean was staring at her dress. He didn't know she only had the one. If he had known, he would have made sure she was set up to have new ones once she was settled in.

"Margaret may have a couple dresses for you," Ben broke the silence. He was wondering the same thing. Ruth couldn't protest. It was her only option. Making dresses took awhile and she needed to find fabric. Nathan and Samuel ran out of the house to go get their sister. Ben followed, letting them know he'd be back soon.

Jean and Ruth were left alone in the entry way.

"I will take you to town," Jean said on a whim, "to talk to Charlotte's seamstress."

Ruth was surprised by this. She didn't expect to have someone else make her dresses for her. She didn't object though. Sewing was exhausting and she had bigger troubles on her plate. There was much work to do.

….

Margaret came over with a couple bundles under her arms. She had a huge smile on her face and looked excited. She headed upstairs with Ruth and unwrapped them, laying them out on the bed.

"They aren't too fancy but I think they'll do for now," Margaret said happily as she sat down, "I'm sure Jean will buy you much nicer ones when you go to town."

"I don't know why I'd need anything more than these."

"Of course you do," Margaret chuckled, "none of these will work for the gathering at the barn in a week."

"The gathering at the barn?" Ruth asked in confusion.

"It's to mark the harvest season," Margaret informed her, "The community gathers every year at my father's barn and we have a bit of a party. It's a bit of good fun before the men help harvest. You'll be spending the night with us because all the women cook for the men when the harvest begins the next morning. You'll need some dresses."

Ruth hadn't been to a gathering in years. She forgot how to dance. The war had taken a lot of memories from her and she was still desperately searching for them.

"Well, I hope these dresses will work," Margaret spoke up, "They're good work dresses but every woman needs a couple nice ones. Especially for church."

Ruth smiled as she picked them up off the bed. She decided to wear the nicest one of the bunch, considering that she was going to town.

"I don't know how long they'll fit you though," Margaret prattled on, "with a baby on the way, I'm sure you'll need new ones."

Ruth almost laughed but held it in. It was obvious that she hadn't heard that it was impossible at that moment for Ruth to be pregnant. Margaret saw the look on her face and felt a bit confused.

"Aren't you excited to have children?" she asked innocently.

"Oh, I am," Ruth answered, "but I don't see how it could possibly happen anytime soon."

Margaret cocked her eyebrow. She wasn't entirely sure at first as to what Ruth meant but it hit her a couple minutes later.

"You can't possibly-"

Ruth sighed. She had hoped Margaret wouldn't know what she meant.

"It's not really my business but-"

"Your aunt has already given me the lecture," Ruth said sternly. She wasn't in the mood to be blamed and she didn't understand why they were so open to speak to her about it. Her family never spoke of such things.

Margaret pushed the subject aside, sensing Ruth's uncomfortableness and helped Ruth change out of her wedding dress. She looked much more relaxed in the dark blue cotton dress. A white floral and vine pattern decorated it and the colors made Ruth's red hair appear much more vibrant. Ruth felt much more at home then and clear headed.

"Margaret, would you mind keeping me company until I head to town this afternoon?" Ruth asked her. She didn't want the girl thinking she was angry with her for bringing up the subject.

"I would love to," Margaret said jovially.

…..

Jean and Ruth stood in the seamstresses shop and were met by a small woman, who came to Jean's waist. She was tiny and nimble. She took Ruth and measured her quickly, plucking fabric off of shelves.

"Now dear," she squeaked, "what sort of dress do you need?"

"I need a few apparently."

"Well, I'll take care of that for you, don't you worry," she chuckled.

Ruth wasn't used to this. She hadn't been to a seamstress in years and that had been the only time. She knew what to expect. The woman began cutting some fabric that Ruth had selected. She let Ruth know that they would be delivered to her in a week.

When she walked out of the shop while Jean gave the woman payment and let her know where he lived. Ruth was shocked when she caught the figure of a very tall man approaching her.

"Miss Ruth Abernathy?" his voice boomed. She looked up in shock to see him.

"Mr. Wilkins?" she was very surprised. She hadn't seen him in years.

"It's lovely to see you again," he said nervously, "I didn't think I would."

"Why is that?" ruth tried to ask him but Jean came out of the shop. the look on his face when he saw James was not pleasant. He didn't tip his hat to the man and put his hand on the small of Ruth's back, urging her to get into the wagon.

"I'm talking to an old friend," Ruth snapped at him.

"Do you know him?" James asked in shock.

"He's-" Ruth felt odd saying it but the look on James' face was amusing to her, "my husband."

James Wilkins stood stupefied for a moment.

"It was lovely speaking to you again," Ruth said. She let Jean help her into the wagon.

"You married?" he suddenly spoke up, "I hadn't heard of this."

"I'm surprised you didn't. Everyone has," Ruth said bluntly, "It took place in Pembroke just a few days ago. You remember Pembroke, don't you?"

James' face went completely white. He had no idea if she knew he had been there. His heart began to race so quickly he couldn't catch his breath. He watched in horror as the small wagon took off.

…..

Later that day, James was back home on the old plantation his family owned. His father was readying to hand it down to him. His father, just like his son, was a very tall man and great in stature. Age had weathered him but he was still a strong and fiercely opinionated man. He was still loyal to the British, even though the war was over.

When he saw his son sit down at the table to join the family for dinner, he saw the look of confusion of his son's face.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked his son gruffly.

"I saw Miss Ruth today, in town," he said bluntly.

"Ah, you mean Mrs. Villeneuve?" his mother corrected him.

"Why didn't I hear she married the Frenchman?" James asked his father, "or that an engagement had taken place?"

"The marriage was very sudden, dear," her mother said in a comforting tone, "We didn't even hear of an engagement and when I heard, I thought it best to not say anything."

His father chuckled, "Why are you worried about her?"

"You know why, Father," James' little sister spoke up.

"Her family didn't want it to continue once you joined the British army," his father said in frustration, "Why not marry a good english girl? Instead of a damn colonial-"

"Those 'damn' colonials won the war, father," James interrupted, "They're obviously better than we thought they were."

"Don't you worry about Ruth Aber-"

"Villeneuve," his wife corrected again.

"I don't give a damn what her married name is now. It's a no good French name, is all it is now," Old Wilkins, as he was called, snapped back at her, "Don't worry about that girl. She's married and now there is nothing to be done about it. You can't marry her now, so, fix your eyes on another woman."

"Father, I courted her for three years," James said angrily, "and then she stopped receiving my letters because you intercepted them."

"Yes, because we want good English blood in our family," he said, "when her family made it clear where their loyalties laid, I didn't want that in our line."

"She could have been my wife," James said under his breath.

"You wouldn't have any children with her," her father laughed, "She's cold from what I've heard. Their marriage hasn't been sealed."

James cocked his eyebrow and his mother groaned, taking her daughter out of the room, not wanting to hear such things.

"The marriage hasn't been consummated," his father laughed, "you dodged a horrid mistake."

"And how would you know this?" James asked in disgust, "Gossip can be very untrue. You of all people should know that."

"I still stand by what I said," his father informed him, "You did me proud by serving in the King's army and becoming a dragoon. If you had married her, you wouldn't have done that. You served under one of the greatest men. Too bad he was cut down in his prime."

"Colonel Tavington was a mad man," James said, a massive weight lifting from his chest, "He was possessed and I wish I had had the courage to stand up against him when he ordered that church burnt down. It haunts me what I did to those people. They didn't deserve that."

James got up from the table, having barely touched his food. He decided that he would prefer to go to the tavern instead of stay there with his father. He headed out and mounted his horse when one of his father's slaves brought it back around. He headed off quickly and made his way to George's Tavern, which was located very closely to town.

…

Ruth was standing in front of the fireplace in her nightgown, staring at the portrait of her brother. She could not lie and say she had forgotten the pain of losing them. She could only imagine the pain Jean felt to that day. The war had pushed down so many emotions and memories for Ruth and now that it was over, they came bubbling back up to the surface. She knew why Mr. Martin had drowned himself with alcohol after the French and Indian wars. She remembered hearing about his drunkenness from a few stories her father told. He had served in the French and Indian wars alongside him and had witnessed the horrors of war. She knew he had been a drunk for a short while after that war but that he had stopped once Gabriel was born.

When Ruth had heard of Gabriel Martin's death, she couldn't believe her ears. She had heard about so much death. It seemed as if every boy she had ever spoken to was dropping on the battlefield for the cause. However, Gabriel's death was different to her. She had been good friends with Anne, who had read a couple of Gabriel's letters and she had known the Martins very well until she moved to Pembroke to stay with her brother and sister. She had played with Gabriel when she was a child and her parent's would visit the Martins but once she moved away, she had stopped talking to them. However, once Gabriel started courting Anne and the war had just started, she became reacquainted with them. Her brother had even aided Mr. Martin's men before the church was burnt down.

Oddly, Ruth began to remember Jean. She had actually met him shortly before the fire. They had talked for a few moments but she had forgotten him and now it was beginning to come back to her. She had been standing behind the counter of her brother's shop when he came in, looking for a few small supplies. She had helped him. Now that Ruth remembered it, it seemed so incredibly odd that she had been standing there speaking to the man she was to marry someday. She never imagined it.

Jean walked into the room and saw her standing there. He joined her and looked at the fresh new faces on the mantel.

"My brother, my sister-in-law, my mother, my father, and my little nephew," Ruth said, pointing to each one, knowing he was going to ask, "The war took my brother and his wife and their baby. They died in the fire in Pembroke."

Jean nodded. He remembered. That was the day Gabriel and many of the men he fought with in the militia had died. It was the day he had seen Ben break down and nearly give up.

"We have common ground, you and I," Ruth said as she turned to look up at him, "let's start with that."


	6. The Second Attempt

**Chapter 6: The Second Attempt**

Music and clapping carried through the air when Ruth and Jean arrived at the barn gathering. They were a bit late but hadn't missed anything special. Charlotte and Margaret ran out to greet them. Charlotte noticed Ruth was wearing a new dress. It was a very light green fabric covered in a lightly colorful floral and vine pattern. It was very well fitted and finely made. Ruth looked like a proper married woman, Charlotte commented. However, Ruth didn't think anything of it and followed Jean to the barn. It had been cleaned out very well and it appeared that everyone from town was gathered there. There had to have been at least fifty people, not counting children.

Ruth didn't feel comfortable going into public those days. She had heard from Laura that the news of her and Jean not consummated their marriage had reached almost every ear. She had no doubt it was her aunt who had opened her mouth to the wrong person. Ruth could feel the stares from the men and women. They were all wondering what was wrong with her. She didn't know that Jean was bothered by the looks too. She didn't know about the comments he had heard from some of the men. It took everything in him not to punch them. However, his reputation and what he had done in the war, kept most of the gossip at bay. Unfortunately, that meant Ruth got most of the blame. Ben had also gotten word that the news had passed through the town and Charlotte had tried to keep things at bay by standing up for Ruth. An arranged marriage was never easy for both participants, she would remind some of the gossiping women when they visited her.

Ruth sat down by Jean and tried to ignore some of the looks she was receiving. However, the attention on her was shifted when the Wilkins arrived. James was trying to integrate back into the community but who he had been during the war was keeping everyone from welcoming him. He thought he would show up to the gathering to lend his hands in helping Mr. Martin. Ben had no trouble with more help but he tried not to think about who it was.

Everyone stopped dancing and it grew silent when they showed up. Ruth didn't know what to think about it. She had had feelings for him in the past but the events of the war changed everything. Nothing was the same. Families and communities had been ripped apart by alliances. James stood off to the side and everyone soon forgot the Wilkins family's presence.

The room soon began to feel stuffy for Ruth. Laura had pulled her corset a bit tighter than she was used to but Ruth was getting ahold of how to breath. However the heat and humidity of so many people gathered together mad her get up to go outside for some fresh air. Jean watched her from afar to make sure she was alright but his attentions were distracted when some of the men he had fought with in war joined him to talk about the "good old days" as they called them.

Ruth finally made it outside and walked about the barn, breathing in the fresh air as she looked up at the night sky. It felt good to be out in the fresh air away from everyone. After having lived on a farm for so many years, she had grown used to peace and quiet. When the soldiers were around during the war, she didn't mind it. It was temporary. Now she was in a home with practical strangers. She was growing to know Jean more. She and Laura had found friendship and Margaret visited every other day. She still didn't know them very well but she was growing closer to them. She and Jean, however, were still tense together. They spoke to one another much more freely after a week together but when night came and they were laying in bed, things became very frustrating.

Ruth's thoughts were interrupted when she heard a voice. She immediately recognized who it was and found herself in another uncomfortable situation.

"I found it a bit shocking when I learned of your marriage," James said bluntly.

Ruth looked up at him as he joined her. They both stood and looked up at the sky.

"I was about to ask you before it all happened," James suddenly spoke up again.

"God had another plan," Ruth said tensely, "you made your choice."

"And what good did it do me?" James scoffed, "I can't walk into a room without glares being thrown my way."

"I don't understand why," Ruth said in confusion, "you were just an officer. You did what a lot of men did."

"I-" James suddenly realized she didn't know, "I wasn't just an officer."

Ruth looked up at him in confusion.

"You might as well hear it from me before you get word of it from someone else," James half heartily joked, "I was a captain."

"That's not too terrible," Ruth laughed. She thought it would be worse but the look on his face told her he wasn't finished.

"I was a dragoon," he hissed, "I was second in command under-"

"Tavington?" Ruth's voice suddenly soured chilly to him. Her blood ran cold. All the color ran from her face. She saw him nod nervously and she stepped away from him, walking backwards.

"No, Ruth, please," James sounded incredibly frantic. He wished he hadn't told her but he knew it was a matte rod time before she heard it.

"You were with him when-"

His heart nearly stopped. He knew what she talking of. He tried to take her arm to calm her but she shouted at him and threw his hand off of herself.

"I regret it every day, Ruth," he nearly cried, "Not a day goes by-"

"You served under that monster," she said through gritted teeth, "you followed his orders. You're a coward."

"I can't deny that," he muttered.

"You stood by as he ordered that burning," Ruth cried, "and here I was trying to forgive you for just choosing a side in war. I didn't know you participated in the atrocities."

"I had no choice," James flinched after he said it. It wasn't true, he knew.

"Oh no, you did," Ruth snapped back at him.

"I would've been shot and what good would that have done?"

"It didn't do you any better not to," Ruth hissed. She walked away quickly. He watched her head back into the barn and he groaned. He was tired of everything.

….

Jean and Ruth stayed in a guest room at the Martins that night. They had to rise early to start helping with the harvest. However, they were only going to get small amount of sleep. It was incredibly late when the Martins, Jean, and Ruth retired to bed. They had been saying goodbye to a lot of people as they headed back to town. They would be back in the morning but not as early as Jean and Ben would be out in the fields prepping for their arrival. Some of the single men decided to stay the night and sleep in the farm until morning.

Ben Martin had one of the largest farms in the area. He needed as much help as he could get to do it quickly. He didn't expect everyone to stay the entire time but he knew that with the pace being what it usually was, they didn't finish until dark. Usually, by the end of the day, a small handful of men and the men who already worked Ben's land during the season, were left. If the sun set before they finished, they would sit in the field around a fire and talk or sing songs about war. Usually, they would rest that way a bit before heading back to the house. It was a time of camaraderie amongst the men and a time for some of the women to cook together and talk. It was one of the more exciting times of the year besides the planting season.

It took Jean, having been from an aristocratic family, some time to get used to the more rugged traditions of American life. It charmed him. He felt better there than in France. The friendships he had forged in South Carolina made him decided to stay and leave France behind.

When the small handful of men went into the fields to start harvesting that morning, Ruth joined the women in the kitchen. They were expecting more women to arrive in the afternoon but began to prep the massive evening meal.

Abigail and Ruth both sat on the back porch together with two metal pots between them as they prepared green beans. Charlotte and the others were away prepping other parts of the meal. Ruth caught Abigail's worried looks.

"I'm sure Charlotte has gotten to you about it," Ruth said. There was no reason to keep it in any longer.

"What's troubling the both of you so much?" Abigail asked kindly. She wasn't chiding Ruth. in fact, she wanted to give some advice if she could.

"I don't know," Abigail answered honestly.

"I'm sure you've heard you share of every lecture from Mrs Martin and you aunts," Abigail said, "but have they actually told you what to do?"

Ruth stopped peeling the beans and looked up in shock.

"Oh goodness," Abigail chuckled as she shook her head, "it's not about duty or sealing' marriages."

Ruth was a little confused.

"It's supposed to happen between a husband and wife because it's a bond," Abigail said bluntly, "it's what god created to hold you together when all you have is each other."

"I don't love him," Ruth said bluntly, "it's a bit hard to allow it to happen."

"Well, that makes the issue a little more complicated," Abigail said, "I don't want to tell you to do something when you don't feel it's right. I just wish you could shake these people off your back."

"I do too," Ruth said, "I suppose they won't leave us alone until something is done."

"Never do anything just because someone tells you to," Abigail said sternly, "I spent my whole life bering over and doing everything I was told because I was afraid for my life. I'm just lucky Mr. Martin gave me my freedom. Take it from me- you do somethin' before you're ready to and it will not work out."

Ruth sat in shock.

"And that's all I have to say on the issue," Abigail laughed, "Don't you worry about these people. They'll forget about it in a month or two to when another sort of scandal happens."

"They must be very fickle people, if that is true," Ruth joked.

…..

The evening grew closer and the smell of food was drawing the men closer to the house. Ben realized it was time to give everyone a time to rest awhile. Jean, Nathan, and Ben sat on the porch and caught their breaths.

"I'm getting old," Ben laughed.

"Getting?" Nathan joked, "You are."

Ben lightly nudged his cheek with his fist jokingly. Occum decided to join them.

Charlotte watched them from the window and realized that a hoard of men were approaching the home. She looked back at the women who were all laying food out.

"They're going to make a mess of everything," little Susan said, "I just cleaned too."

"I'll keep them in check, dear," Charlotte joked, "I might as well teach them some manners while I'm at it."

Ruth opened the door and Jean looked back at her, grinning from ear to ear before she could shout that dinner was ready. Once she did, all the men emerged from the corn fields like a pack of ravenous wolves. They were incredibly hungry, she could tell. Nathan nearly pushed his father down when he rushed into the house.

"Slow yourself," Charlotte shouted after him.

Ruth backed away and watched in terror as the men tore into the food, slopping it on their plates like wild men. However, Jean was a lot more decent than them. He quickly picked up his food and got out of the group before things became too ravenous. Ben backed away too and shook his head, chuckling as Charlotte tried to shout at them to keep orderly.

Jean joined Ruth and stood next to her against the wall. He offered her some food but he didn't know she had been snacking while she was cooking. All of the women had. They were too full. They had been cooking all day and Ruth had lost count of how many green beans she had eaten.

…

Night fell and most of the men had left. Ben started a fire in the middle of a cleared field and sat down with the handful of men left. It was getting chilly and he wanted to finish before the cold snaps began and killed the rest of the crops.

He saw Charlotte and Ruth coming out to them from the distance with lanterns and some bundles under their arms. Most likely bread and a bit of meat for all of them. They doled the food out to them and Charlotte gave her husband a chiding look. he knew she was telling him that it was time to call it a day. He reluctantly agreed and the men all dispersed for the night. They would pick up in the morning where they had left off. Jean, Ben, and his two eldest sons followed the women back to the house.

When Jean and Ruth retired to their room that night, she tried to encourage Jean. She had heard some whispers from the women while they were cooking. Abigail helped her not to lose her temper by touching her arm and making her sit down for a bit away from them.

Ruth began to undo Jean's cravat. He was a bit shocked by her sudden forwardness. He took her hands down and she tried to pull him to the bed.

"No," he laughed, "you're just-"

"I'm what?" Ruth let go of his arm and threw her hands in the air, trying to keep her voice down but she didn't know she had shouted a bit too loud. Charlotte had her ear pressed on the door and Ruth had no idea.

"You're feeling pressured," Jean said bluntly, "you don't think I hear what is being said?"

"Why haven't you?" Ruth squeaked at him. when she tried to keep from shouting her voice usually did that.

Jean almost laughed at the way her voiced squeaked. He thought it was adorable.

"Are you-" ruth lowered her voice even lower, "incapable?"

Jean's eyes widened and he tried to keep from laughing. She was working herself up into a rage and he could tell. Her face was turning a bright pink.

"I am perfectly capable," he said bluntly.

"Than am I so horrid that I can't provoke you to-"

"Non! I tell you the truth, you are perfectly-" Jean whispered as he tried to express what he was thinking without losing his english. Ruth was very beautiful. He couldn't sit there and convince himself that he wasn't frustrated laying next to her at night without touching her.

Ruth put her hands on her hips and began pacing. She was so confused at that moment but she was relieved that they were talking about it. A bit of the tension which had been rising between them had dissipated into the air. Jean was relieved too.

"I am the laughing stock of the town," Ruth hissed, "and you have the nerve to allow me to continue on like this?"

Jean saw how worried she was. She blew out a massive puff of air from her mouth and gave up on the conversation when he didn't answer. She began to undress and didn't care if he saw her at that point. She put on her nightgown and slipped into bed, flicking the blanket furiously about to get comfortable. She punched the pillow and rolled over, trying to shut her eyes. Jean stood in complete shock for a few moments. He removed his boots and undressed before laying down to sleep. He knew she wasn't asleep yet. She was still huffing in anger. He put his arm around her and turned her over. She was still stiff with frustration. She laid there for a few moments, wondering why he had his hand on her stomach. He looked like he was trying to get his guts up to do something.

She patted his hand and rolled over again after a couple minutes but he flipped her over again and kissed her. She was a bit shocked by the gesture but it was the first door opening. She had been too worried that she would never have children and would be laughed out of town because her husband never touched her. However, she couldn't lie and say she was ready for anything else at that moment. She was thankful that he respected her. They slept a little closer to each other than usual that night.


	7. An Unexpected Guest

**Chapter 7: An Unexpected Guest**

It was early November. The night sky was falling and the household was settling in for dinner. Ruth was pulling a quilt she had been airing out all day from off the porch banister when she saw something strange in the distance amongst the trees. She squinted. The evening sky barely provided enough light. The figure grew closer and closer. It was limping.

"Jean!" Ruth shouted for her husband. She pulled the quilt inside and rushed back onto the back porch with him.

She could finally make out what it was. It was a man. He and was limping severely towards them but he collapsed into the grass. Ruth flung herself from the porch without thinking and rushed to him. Jean followed quickly behind her. She knelt down. Her blood ran cold. Whipping marks were bleeding through his shirt. She flipped the young man over and looked at his face. She knew immediately that he was a runaway slave.

"Laura!" Ruth shouted back at her friend who was standing on the porch, "get Occum!"

Occum was strong enough to carry the heaviest burdens with ease. Jean tried to make the young man sit up but he had gone dead weight. He was slipping in out of consciousness.

Occum picked him up with ease and ran back with Ruth and Jean into the house. Ruth stopped dead in her tracks when she heard dogs barking. She turned around and saw torches coming from the trees in the distance. Her breath became erratic. She tried to calm herself. It was bringing back memories from the war she had tried to hold down for so long. Jean tried to pull on her arm to coax her inside but she ignored him. Occum rushed inside.

"Hide him quickly!" Ruth shouted back. Laura nodded and Ruth held her ground. Jean sighed and joined her. A few moments passed before she could see who the men were. It was Old Wilkins. She shuddered.

"Where is he?" the old man looked down at Ruth from his horse, "he was coming this way."

"What are you talking about?" Ruth lied.

"I think you damn well know," he hissed, "A runaway isn't an easy thing to miss!"

"A runaway?" Ruth tried to act as innocent as she could. Jean was standing completely still. His hand was ready to pull the trigger of the pistol he had grabbed before Ruth ran out to investigate the figure approaching the house.

"You seem awful tense, Mr. Villeneuve," one of the men with Old Wilkins joked.

Jean didn't respond and kept his eyes on him. He knew what men could be like when they were in a pack like wolves. Their senses were dull when they were grouped together and thirsty for retribution.

"Why are you looking here?" Ruth asked him, "you're wasting your time. He's probably half way to Pembroke by now."

"I don't think he could run that far that fast. Not with the wounds I dealt him," Old Wilkins laughed. Ruth looked up at him in rage but she realized James was amongst the men. He looked completely out of place. He almost looked reluctant to be there.

"Be off with you!" Ruth shouted at him before heading up the steps. Jean didn't turn his back on them like she did. He stood his ground and glared up at Old Wilkins for a few moments. Ruth turned around, wondering what was about to happen. The old man growled and pulled the reigns of his horse.

"Let's get going!" he shouted at the group before he turned to look back down at Jean, "Mark my words, Mr. Villeneuve. I know how you French are with our customs here. If I find out you are harboring my property I will see to it that I take something of yours." He looked up at Ruth and Jean caught what he meant.

Jean raised his pistol and pointed it threateningly at Old Wilkins, spooking his horse. It reeled up and the old man held on. Some of the men tried to keep from laughing. He gained his grip on the horse and it placed all four of its hooves on the ground before he rode off. The dogs followed reluctantly and continued on with the party.

"What were you thinking?" Jean turned to Ruth after they were gone.

"I know how to handle myself," Ruth defended.

"Non," Jean said angrily, "those men are out for blood."

"They know the law-"

"They might but they rarely abide by it," Jean said as he went up the steps, "Especially when the leader of the pack doesn't recognize the law of an independent nation as what he has to abide by."

Jean and Ruth head back into the house where Laura was rushing up the stairs with a bucket of water and some cloth. Ruth followed her and found that Laura had placed the young man on a small bed in one of the spare rooms. He was laying on his stomach and Laura had ripped his shirt off to treat the wounds. She washed them and then handed Ruth a cloth which had a clump of some sort of thick opaque substance wrapped in it. Ruth sniffed it and realized it smelled like pepper and herbs.

"It's supposed to help with the pain," Laura said. She looked as if she had seen it all too often. Laura didn't even flinch and swiped some up with her hand, placing it on the sounds and ignoring the yelps of pain coming from the victim.

Ruth followed and began to dab the salve on his back but she wasn't as forceful about it as Laura. They finished applying the salve and the young man laid perfectly still for a moment before Laura decided to finally ask him a question.

"What's your name?"

After a few moments he gathered the strength to talk, "Ephraim."

"You're a wanted man, Ephraim," Laura warned him, "If you stay here, don't go outside."

Ephraim seemed incredibly confused. He looked up at them and looked incredibly frightened.

"Where am I?"

"The Villeneuve home," Laura talked to him. A sudden look of relief rushed over him and he shook his head, letting it drop on the pillow. He fell fast asleep and Laura pulled Ruth with her out of the room.

"In the morning, I will take him to Ben," Jean said once they closed the door, "he'll know what to do."

Occum nodded in agreement. Ruth had never encountered a situation such as this before.

…..

When night lifted and the morning's sky began to show it's colors, Jean and Occum placed Ephraim carefully in a wagon and covered him with a few fur pelts to hide him in case Old Wilkins' search party was roaming about. Ruth jumped up onto the wagon seat next to Jean and they rode off to the Martins. Occum decided not to go along, knowing that if Wilkins' search party came across him and Jean on the trail, their suspicions would be raised even higher.

The wagon was old and rickety. It was rarely ever used by Jean. He had received it in a trade shortly before he began to build his home. It had helped him haul supplies but he put it away in a shed afterwards and never pulled it out again. This situation called for it.

Sure enough, Wilkins and his men were heading down the trail. they didn't have the dogs with them and Ruth assumed they had sent them back home to search that night on their own. She was relieved, knowing they would have given Ephraim away in a second. The men's horses were tiredly trotting down the path, heading back when the men saw Jean and Ruth.

"Did you find him?" Jean asked, trying to act normal. However, his reputation of treating slaves and freed men with respect did not help him seem normal when asking that question. Wilkins still didn't trust him.

"If I did, I wouldn't be here," he snapped at Jean as he stopped his horse. Jean kept going forward.

"Remember what I said!" he shouted back at Jean before he disappeared around the bend in the road.

Ruth breathed a sigh of relief when they were out of sight. they finally reached the Martin farm and Ben was standing on the porch talking to Charlotte as she was rocking in a chair. They looked up at the Villeneuve's in surprise.

"What brings you around here with that rickety old thing," Ben laughed. Jean stopped the horse and jumped off the wagon. Ben followed him to the back. Ruth turned around as Jean flipped back the pelts to reveal Ephraim. Ben barely looked phased when he saw the young man. He looked over at Jean shook his head.

"Oh Jean," Ben shook his head, "Is he the one Old Wilkins was so worked up about last night?"

"He came to your house last night too?"

"Jean, are you mad?" Ben laughed, "of course you are. I honestly can't say I'm surprised by this. You're a crazy Frenchman-"

"What did he say when he talked to you?"

Ben answered angrily, "He accused me of harboring a runaway and then he made a threat about Margaret if he ever found out I had anything to do with it."

"He made a threat about Ruth," Jean whispered. Ruth barely caught what they were saying and was running her hand on Ephraim's head to help with the pain he was gritting through.

"You're going to be alright," she whispered.

"Honestly, Old Wilkins can suck on a leather strap," Ben said as he crawled into the back of the wagon to carefully lift Ephraim and scoot him to the edge, "I hate that man with every bone in my body."

"Thank you," Jean said. He knew Ben was probably the only man in the area who would help in that situation. Many people would have slammed their doors.

"I can hide him on my farm until he's well enough," Ben said as he helped Jean lift him out of the wagon, "and then he has to run out of South Carolina as fast as he can. He needs to get to the Gullah camp as soon as possible. Wilkins can't find him there. Chances are he won't even go that far."

Ruth had heard of Gullah camps. They were places of refuge for many slaves who had either been freed or had ran away. The journey was perilous to get there but many of the slaves ricked it. It was better than what would happen to them if they were caught. Usually the runaways never ventured outside of the Gullah camp for the rest of their lives. They were so far out that many of the plantation owners gave up looking.

Ruth watched Ben and Jean heave Ephraim up the steps and into the house. Charlotte ran to ruth as she jumped out of the wagon.

"What on earth is happening?" Charlotte worriedly asked, "I had to have Margaret stay in the house today after what Old Wilkins threatened."

"He threatened Margaret?" Ruth asked in huff.

"I can't repeat what he said but I would suggest that you keep close to Jean for the next few weeks," Charlotte said, "I don't trust the Wilkins family and they rarely ever let their threats be in vain."

Ruth never heard about the Wilkins family spoken of in that manner. She knew James' father was a horrid man. After learning what James did during the war, however, she thought that it probably wasn't just his father she had to look out for.


	8. Caught

**Chapter 8: Caught**

By the end of November Ephraim had gained his strength. He kept inside and didn't allow anyone to see him except for the Martins and the Villeneuves. It came to a point where Ephraim was ready to leave. He was restless. Ben gave him some supplies to carry on his way to the Gullah camp and he ran one day. However, when night came, their plans fell through.

It was an incredibly dark and chilly night. Occum stood up from the chair on the porch and held the lantern up into the darkness, shining light on three men. Horror clutched Ruth as she watched her husband and Ben clunk up the stairs, dragging Ephraim with his arms thrown over their necks. He was bloodied and bruised. She could see a bullet wound dripping, making his once white shirt a crimson red. Ephraim groaned in pain as he was hauled into the house. His head limply swung about as he tried to hold it up from time to time. Ruth was used to this. She had seen it so many times during the war but the situation was new to her in every way. She knew that Wilkins was looking for Ephraim again and she knew he wasn't safe. In fact, she didn't know if he could get away again this time.

She knelt down beside him when he was laid down on the chaise lounge in the parlor. Jean didn't care at that moment if blood stained it. His wife began to rip cotton into strips as Laura rushed about, gathering supplies. Ruth was trying to keep Jim calm. She heard dogs barking in the distance and his moans of pain would draw attention. Jean took his gun from off his shoulder and went back onto the porch. Ruth heard the voices of men outside the door and their torches shed light into the sitting room. She heard a man start yelling.

"Where is he?" she heard Old Wilkins shout.

"Who?" Ben shouted back at the man. Old Wilkins was not in the mood to go around in circles. He had seen Ephraim running into one of the slave cabins only a couple hours before. He had shot him and when Ephraim ran, the chase began again.

"You know who, Mr. Martin!" the enraged man yelled, "I'm tired of this."

Jean lifted his musket up and aimed it at the man to ensure that no one tried to come inside. Ruth had her hand over Ephraim's mouth to keep him from shouting in pain as Laura pushed down on his wound to stop the bleeding. There was an extreme moment of quiet tension. Ruth could hear Ephraim's heart beating so hard, she feared he would die. Blood was all over her hands but when she heard the click of the gun penetrate the silence, she shot up off the floor and ran to the door. Laura tried to protest by grabbing Ruth's skirts but to no avail. Wilkins glared at her when she appeared.

"That's an awful lot of blood, Mrs. Villeneuve," he chuckled. Jean stepped in front of her, not letting the gun down for one moment. She kept silent.

"I want what's mine," he demanded.

"He's not yours," Ruth said under her breath but Old Wilkins caught it.

"I would suggest that you keep your wife quiet," he addressed Jean.

Ben put his hand up to keep his friend from losing his temper. His finger was so tightly wound on the trigger, Ben feared that Jean would pull it. Old Wilkins took a step forward and made his way up the stairs. Ruth stood her ground in the doorway. Ben pushed the rifle down and Jean relented, realizing that his opponent didn't have a gun on him at that moment. Ruth glared up at him. He towered above her but she didn't move. Jean couldn't help but smile at that moment.

"Move," the man addressed her coldly. She stood in place.

"Ruth," Ben whispered, trying to keep her from harm.

"He's not yours," Ruth spoke up, her voice shaking.

Wilkins started laughing and turned around, "She says He's not mine!"

The men all started laughing riotously. All of them except for James.

"By law he is," he said once he turned back around. He stepped towards her. She could smell his breath. Jean stepped forward, ready to pull him away but Ruth shook her head.

"Not by God's law," Ruth challenged him.

He chuckled, "It's a shame when a woman doesn't know her place," he pushed her aside and made his way inside. Ruth rushed in after him, Jean and Ben in tow. Laura looked up at him but continued to dress Ephraim's wounds. She was more worried about his life than the tyrant who stood above her.

Mr. Wilkins looked down on him. He was in horrid shape. He would barely survive a three hour journey back to his plantation without medical attention. The dogs had mauled his arms and the bullet wound in his shoulder would most likely lead to an amputation. Mr. Wilkins angrily turned to go back outside. Ruth confusedly watched him.

"Go home," Mr. Bryant ordered the others, "He's useless to me right now."

Many of the men, thinking Ephraim was dead, walked away. Ten men remained, standing with their torches ready.

"I said go home," Mr. Wilkins ordered again. The men stood still in their place.

"We should make an example of them," one shouted, "they stole your property!"

The men all agreed with one another. Mr. Wilkins stood on the porch quietly contemplating what they said. Jean pushed Ruth into the house and closed the door. She tried to open it but he held the door shut. He was terrified of what might happen. He knew that most of those men believed firmly in the eye for an eye doctrine.

Ruth stood on the other side of the door and leaned on it. She was trying to hold herself up. She looked back at Laura and Occum who were wrapping the wounds very tight. They were trying to hold themselves together just as much as her. At that moment, they could rely on no earthly person to provide them with a sense of security. They had no one to lean on but God.

"Quiet!" Ben shouted over the men. Ruth listened intensely. Jean was holding the door shut in case she tried to come out.

"Nothing was stolen!" Ben shouted, "Mr. Wilkins dealt the shot and his dogs did the rest!"

The men were still in a ravenous mood.

"We were helping a wounded man!" Ben shouted at them, "how is that punishable?"

The men couldn't answer. Mr. Wilkins walked down the steps and they knew it was time to leave.

"This is not over," Mr. Wilkins threatened before he turned back around and left.

Ruth's heart suddenly released its tension and her knees gave way in relief. She fell on the ground and took deep breaths to calm herself after the incident. Jean let go of the handle of the door and stood, watching the men carefully as they disappeared into the night.

Laura took deep breaths and listened to Ephraim's heart. It was beating weakly. She didn't know if he would make it through the night without medical attention.

"His wounds need to be cleaned and he needs to be stitched up," Ruth said, "and that bullet needs to be removed as soon as possible."

"The doctor lives two hours away," Laura said worriedly, "I don't even know if he has that much time."

"Ha-," Ephraim choked, "Haddie."

Ruth and Laura looked at him in shock. Ruth took his hand and he kept trying to talk before he passed out.

….

Ruth and Jean discovered that Ephraim had been caught because he ran back to the Wilkins plantation in the nighttime to get his wife. She refused to go because she was afraid and had told him to go on without her. Ephraim luckily survived the ordeal. He was out cold for a few days. Ruth and Laura had looked after his wounds. The bullet had been removed by Ben. They knew the doctor was too far away and he took incentive. Luckily for Ephraim, his arm did not require amputation. His wounds were stitched up by Ruth after a good cleaning and he began to recover as well as he could.

The way Jean treated Ephraim as his equal made Ruth see him in a way she hadn't before. In fact, she began to admire that quality in him. Her father had had the same views and she had been raised to abhor slavery despite what was preached from the pulpits and taught to the children. Ruth had never understood why men would force others to do work they were perfectly capable of doing on their own. It frustrated her. She had grown so used to seeing the men her age treating slaves so terribly, it turned her away from wishing to sort them. She had thought James was a bit different but when she learned of his father's plantation and heard of the horrors there, she had become incredibly reluctant to receive his letters. She figured that if she were to marry him, she could change things. That was her plan, at least, until the war.

Ephraim chose to go to the Gullah camp in early January. He took a few supplies and Jean thought it best he went with him to ensure his safety. Ruth was incredibly reluctant to be alone for a week in the house. Jean assured her that Laura and occum would be there if any trouble was raised. They thought Old Wilkins had let it go. They didn't know he hadn't. He was still bent on fulfilling the desire for retribution. He felt as if he had been wronged and he wasn't a man to sulk about it without taking action.

Jean left with Ephraim early in the morning. Ruth and Laura said their goodbyes. When they disappeared on the path into the woods, all Ruth could do was hope and pray that her husband would return safely.


	9. Waiting

**Chapter 9: Waiting**

Two weeks passed and Jean had not returned. He hadn't written and everyone was beginning to fear the worst. Ruth especially felt the burden. She tried to carry on as if nothing was happening but inside her mind was rippling with scenarios of how her life could turn if she was left a widow so suddenly. She knew Jean had no relatives in america and that his fortune and property would be passed to her. However, she worried that since that would be the case, she would have an unwelcome swarm of men at her door.

On the fourteenth day after Jean's departure, Ruth's stomach was twisting. She stood on the back porch staring out at the path which led into the woods behind the house. She heard a bunch of men on the front porch and her heart stopped. She rushed in to see if they were there to bring bad news but it just Ben and a group of rowdy men. Her cousin Dan was there too.

"Before Jean left he told me there were a couple things that needed to be done in his absence," Ben assured her everything was alright.

"I'm assuming this is about that tree stump?" Laura spoke up.

"Where is that husband of yours, Mrs. Villeneuve?" one of the men said leeringly. Ben and Dan glared back at him. He muttered something under his breath that Ruth didn't quite catch. They all headed into the back of the house, passing Ruth on their way. She felt a hand brush against her bottom and she realized it was the same man who felt obliged to ask her about her husband. Laura caught what happened and grabbed Sarah before she caused a scene, pulling down the steps into the kitchen so she could cool off.

"Don't let him get to you," Laura said as she began plucking a chicken for dinner. Ruth sat down in a chair in the corner and began rubbing her eyes.

"Where is he, Laura?" Ruth asked, "I don't want to be left alone to the wolves."

They were wolves. Most of them at least. Men who preyed upon young women to claim them for themselves. To claim her, a young widow with her chastity in place and a massive fortune, was a prize. She tried not to become anxious. She wasn't even sure if anything had happened to Jean. He could have been having issues coming back that were unforeseen. He could be there the next day, she assured herself.

….

The men had been laboring with the tree stump for a few hours. They had dug and chopped and pulled as much as they could. They resorted to sitting down in the grass around it, staring at it in contemplation.

Ben saw Ruth coming out of the house with a jug of ale. She knew the men would be thirsty and decided to help them. He stood up quickly, knowing that if any of the men wanted to say anything to her about Jean's absence, they would think twice with him towering over them.

She handed the jug to the first man and they began to take gulps from it and pass it around. Ruth was tense. She could see the man who had harassed her, giving her the eye. She glared at him and took the jug back before it reached him, knowing that alcohol was probably the last thing he needed at that point.

"Maybe Jean went and found himself a new wife," he muttered under his breath, "one who isn't so witholding-"

Ruth dropped the jug onto the hard soil. The contents spilled into the ground. Ben shook his head at the man and Dan stood up. The man decided to stand also. Ruth turned around and looked his straight in the eyes.

"Say that to my face," Ruth hissed.

"I said you're withholding," he laughed, "maybe that husband of yours is going to bring home a new wife. In that case, you can move into my house. I'll teach you a few things-"

Ruth rushed at him and smacked him on the face so hard he fell to the ground in shock. Ben and Dan ran at her. They both grabbed her. Ben put his arm around her waist and picked her up as she flailed to get free and attack the man.

"Woah woah woah!" Dan shouted to ease the tension. The man she had attacked was ready to charge at her.

"Jeremiah! go home!" Ben shouted at him, "The only reason I haven't punched you is because you served with me in the war but don't test my patience!"

The man rubbed his cheek and stood up off the ground. Ruth grunted in anger and tried to reach for him as he passed her and Ben to leave. Ben held her back and ended up falling on the ground with her when he lost his balance.

"Perhaps loosening your corset would do your husband a favor!" he shouted back before he turned back around and walked off. Ben waited for a few seconds before letting of the small woman. She rushed after Jeremiah and Ben regretted letting her go.

"Ruth!" Dan shouted as he chased after her. Ruth caught up with the man and jumped him, pushing him down into the ground. She punched him in the face and pinned his arms down.

"If I ever hear you speak about me in that manner again-!"

"Damnit woman!" Jeremiah spat at her, "you need to learn your place!"

Ruth punched him again, "I am not an animal to be broken!"

Dan and Ben pulled her up off of him but Ben put his foot on Jeremiah's chest to keep him from getting up.

"Colonel, let me go," he said, "I'm leaving. That damn wild woman needs to be taught her place. Maybe if her husband forced her-"

Ben pressed his boot harder on the man's chest. He knew where Jeremiah was headed with that sentence. Laura came out of the house and held back a snort of laughter at the scene before her. Ben let Jeremiah go and he ran away. ruth began to calm down once he disappeared. Ben and Dan looked back at the men. They were all standing up, their mouths agape in shock.

…..

Two days passed and Jean still hadn't returned. Ruth began pacing the floor one morning as Laura watched her. Everything Jeremiah had said was beginning to entrap her. A knock on the door startled the both of them. Laura slowly opened the door to ensure that it wasn't Jeremiah. It was, however, someone Ruth didn't want to see. It was James. He put his boot in the door before Laura could close it in his face.

He had heard about the incident at the tavern. Jeremiah was being mocked for allowing a woman to hit him. James decided to check up on her after hearing that Jean had been gone for over two weeks.

"Ruth!" he shouted out. He saw her massive mane of red hair peek around the corner. She drew in a deep breath and motioned for Laura to let him in. Occum was sitting on the back porch carving a small piece of wood and she knew that if James tried anything, he would be there in a snap.

"Ruth, are you alright?" James asked concerned. Ruth was a bit thrown off at the worried tone in his voice.

Ruth walked into the parlor and he followed. She sat down on a settee and he joined by sitting in a chair facing her.

"My father is still quite mad," James said, "and now I've heard that your husband has been gone."

"And what else has been said about me around town?" Ruth scoffed. She knew that she was the butt of the joke in town.

"You beat Jeremiah Hawkins into the ground," James laughed, "is that true?"

Ruth glared at him, not answering.

"He hasn't heard the end of it, you know," he chuckled, "the men have been laughing at him down at the tavern."

"He made some unsavory comments," Ruth said coldly.

"Ruth-" James said, trying to find his words, "-have you heard anything about his whereabouts?"

"No," Ruth bluntly answered. She held back any sign of emotion.

"-if-" James said nervously, "if he does not come back-"

Ruth turned her face away from him and looked up at Jean's scabbard, which hung above the fireplace. She was suddenly shocked when James was on his knee in front of her.

"I should have asked you this before the war, honestly," James said, "if you find yourself a widow, be my wife."

Ruth stood up and walked past him. He stood up quickly and straightened his coat.

"Please, Mr. Wilkins, contain yourself," Ruth said coldly, "I wouldn't accept it. You stood by as my brother was burnt alive-"

"I cannot say sorry enough," James said anxiously.

"Please leave, Mr. Wilkins," Ruth said as she left the room, heading upstairs. James walked away slowly.

"I loved you," James said. Ruth stopped at the top of the first flight of steps and looked down at him.

"I still love you," James blurted out. He had been wanting to say it for the longest time.

"Please, Mr. Wilkins, I am a married woman," Ruth said, "Try to remember some propriety."


	10. The Return

**I'm going to be doing an illustration for this soon. Let me know what part you'd like to see drawn :D**

**Chapter 10: The Return**

Margaret was sitting by the fireplace, near the front windows of the house. It was a very quiet night. They had found themselves talking about her impending engagement, much to Ben's chagrin. However, they were interrupted when they saw Jean through the window, coming up the path on his horse. Ben stood up quickly, heading outside, and walked down the steps.

"Ruth has been worried-" Ben stopped when he saw Jean's sleeve was soaked with blood .he was trying to act as if it was nothing. The blood on his jacket's sleeve was dried. It looked as if the wound had been treated.

"Ruth is worried?" Jean looked surprised. Margaret grabbed his arm and forced him to take off his jacket. Sure enough the wound had been wrapped very tightly in cotton strips.

"What happened?" Margaret admonished him.

"I had a little encounter with a sharp branch on my way to the camp is all," Jean dismissed it.

"It must have been an awfully sharp branch," Margaret said suspicially. Ben chuckled at how Margaret was poking at it. Jean was trying to be patient with the girl.

"You've been gone for over two weeks, Jean," Ben brought them back to the topic at hand, "Ruth has been held up in the house worried sick."

"Worried sick?" Jean seemed a little happy at the news because he expected Ruth not to care about his absence. She hadn't exactly seemed sad to see him go.

"Some men thought you might be dead and came courting, Jean," Ben laughed, "you know that now if anything were to happen to you, you wouldn't be cold in your grave before Ruth had another proposal."

"James Wilkins already proposed to her," Margaret laughed.

"What?" Jean looked a bit perturbed. Ben and Jean stared at Margaret and the silence was deafening.

"She told me yesterday morning," Margaret smirked, "What? It's not a surprise considering-"

"Margaret-" Charlotte came out on the porch, shaking her head to make Margaret stop.

"It's not my business," Margaret said quickly as she got up out of the rocking chair and went inside.

Jean was incredibly confused.

"Why-" Jean tried to find his words, "why is James Wilkins proposing to my wife?"

"He probably thought it best to be the first before her mourning period began," Charlotte interrupted, "Why are you here? You should have gone straight home. That poor girl has been cooped in the house."

"I thought she wanted more time away from me-" Jean bluntly stated, "Considering-"

"Yes, well, about that," Charlotte said sternly, "Ruth is tired of being the brunt of every joke these days. She attacked Jeremiah Hawkins the other-"

Jean shot a look at Ben and he shook his head.

"I think it would be best if Ruth told him first," Ben quickly interrupted.

"What did Jeremiah do?" Jean asked. He knew Jeremiah well, considering that he had fought with him in the war along with Ben.

"He made a very disrespectful comment," Charlotte spoke up, "I think it's time something be done about this."

Jean huffed and mounted his horse. He was frustrated and he could tell charlotte was too. Ben was trying to keep the peace. However, he had heard what some of the men had been saying at the tavern about Ruth and it concerned him too. He knew why his friend and his new wife weren't doing what everyone expected of them. He wished everyone would let it go and allow time to work it out. Charlotte had been trying to keep the gossip at bay but it was beginning to get to the point where people were speculating that James and Ruth were having an affair.

….

Ruth was sleeping soundly. The house was dead silent and all that could be heard was the wind outside. Jean quietly approached the bed and sat on the edge, looking at her. He sat there for a few moments and placed his hand on her arm to wake her up. She let out a startled gasp and nearly kicked him.

She calmed herself when she realized who it was. She looked down at his arm and gasped again.

"Where have you been?" Ruth asked him, "what happened?"

"I had to stay at the camp for a little to make sure it didn't get infected."

Ruth lit a couple candles for better light and flung herself out of bed to grab some dressings and the washing basin. She unwrapped the wound and stared at it contemplatively for a moment. She loosened her grip on his arm and stared at him.

"How did you get this?" she asked sternly.

Jean sat for a few moments and didn't answer. She had seen the wound before during the war. It was a gunshot wound.

"I-" Jean didn't want to worry her.

"Don't lie to me," Ruth said as she examined it further.

"Old Wilkins and a couple of his men caught up to Ephraim and I on the trail," Jean finally said, "We outran them but not before I got this-"

"It doesn't look infected," Ruth sighed in relief as she washed it. The bullet had been removed and the wound had been crudely stitched up.

"What happened with Jeremiah?" Jean asked after a few moments. Ruth slowed her task for a few seconds, trying to find the words to tell him.

"I taught him that saying inappropriate things isn't something to go unpunished," Ruth said as she tightly wrapped his arm, "how did you know about that?"

"I stopped at the Martins before I came here," Jean said. She tied the ends of the dressings together tightly. He winced and then looked at Ruth. Her face was turning the bright red of a young woman who was bubbling up with anger.

"Are you alright?"

"I thought that you'd died, you know," Ruth admonished him, "and now to know that Old Wilkins has it out for you. Life isn't exactly going as I wanted it-"

"It's not easy for me, either," Jean informed her. She glared at him and he knew it was best to back away from saying anything further.

"Tell me the truth," Ruth spoke up again, wanting to ask him the question that Jeremiah had put into her head, "did you visit any women while you were gone?"

Jean looked at her in shock. He hadn't. The thought hadn't crossed his mind. In the past, it had and during the war he hadn't been the picture of saintly perfection once in awhile when they visited taverns. However, after marriage he kept himself from that. He was a firm believer in not having mistresses. Despite what many believed about the French and their morals, he didn't do what was expected of his countrymen in that regard.

"Some of the men implied that you have."

"During the war-" Jean stuttered, "yes- but not now."

Ruth wasn't surprised. She had heard her cousin John ramble about those sorts of things when he was drunk. She cleaned up the old bandages and his bloodied shirt and threw them in the fireplace. They burned quickly as she placed the wash basin back down on the dresser. She picked up his jacket and looked at it. she figured she would pick the sleeve off and sew a new one onto it. there was no sense in discarding it when only the sleeve was destroyed.

Jean looked down at his freshly dressed wound. She had done a beautiful job despite the anger he sensed from her. She sat back down on the bed and laid back down, pulling the blanket over herself. She was relieved he was all right but she was angry about what had happened. More frightened than angry perhaps, she thought to herself. Jean rummaged about and sat down in a chair to return to his nightly routine of boot shining. It was a bit harder with with his arm hurting so badly but he did it nonetheless. He waited for Ruth to fall asleep before he laid in bed.

….


	11. Standing Up

**Sorry for not uploading for so long! I've been trying to figure out where to go from here and some beautiful people from Tumblr gently prodded me to get going with this, so, here we go! If anyone has any ideas, please let me know. Also, I'm going to be doing an illustration for this soon. Let me know what part you'd like to see drawn :D Really, seriously, let me know what part of the story you'd like to see illustrated *stares at all of you* **

**oh btw, my tumblr is lizzywhimsy now. I changed my username. **

**Chapter 11: Standing Up**

Ruth's great aunt had a very special ability. It was to make Ruth feel like the smallest person in the room. She wielded her walking cane in such a way that no one dared to mess with her. Within the time Jean and Ruth had been married, she had established the habit of visiting at least once a week, to check in on Ruth. It was partly genuine and loving. She would visit Ruth to make sure she doing well but mostly it was to remind Ruth of her duties as a wife.

Ruth ran her new household very well, her aunt could not complain to her about that. Ruth and Laura had moved all the books into one of the spare rooms upstairs and had rearranged the furniture to make it seem more warm and inviting. Everything had been dusted and cleaned and the home no longer looked as if a reclusive hermit had made his home there.

"Can we be expecting any children soon?" her aunt asked after they had exchanged pleasantries for a bit. Ruth tapped on the fine wood dining table and looked at the tea tray. She wasn't very fond of the ritual of tea that her family had tried to keep. Her mother, being English, taught Ruth to do it. Her great aunt insisted she bring out the tea whenever she arrived.

"Would you like some more?" Ruth lifted the tea pot to try and pour but her aunt put her hand over her cup to stop her.

"There are rumors in town about you and that Wilkins boy," her aunt chided, "There's a story going around that he proposed to you when your husband on that dangerous excursion of his."

"That excursion was necessary," Ruth defended Jean. Her aunt didn't know why he left but Ruth was soon to find out where her aunt thought he had gone off to.

"I fear your marriage is in jeopardy, Ruth," her aunt said worriedly.

"The only thing in jeopardy is your tea cup, it's quite low," Ruth joked. She was still holding the pot.

"Now is not the time to worry about tea," her aunt said sternly. She grew silent when Laura walked through the room. Ruth and her shared a look of exasperation as she passed through.

"Your husband was gone for two weeks, Ruth," the woman continued, "Most likely was seeking out what you haven't given him."

"Auntie," Ruth stopped her and put her hand up, "Everything is quite fine. I know where he was."

Her aunt scoffed, "Husbands know how to lie."

Ruth gave up trying to dodge the subject with her aunt at that moment.

"Auntie, my husband and I have discussed this issue," Ruth said bluntly.

"Then what is wrong?"

"I'm not ready," Ruth finally said. Her aunt's face construed into a look of confusion. She was drawn back.

"You agreed to enter a marriage, you knew what was expected of you, and you claim you're not ready?" her aunt laughed sarcastically, "What a silly thing, Ruth. Every girl must become a woman someday and I suggest you begin to. grow up"

"Don't tell me I am a little girl," Ruth hissed, "I agreed to this marriage because I knew how severe the situation was, I made a choice to throw away any romantic ideals the war didn't take from me. I resigned myself to be an old maid. Then, we lost the farm, and I thought I might as well agree to do something that benefited my future. I saw him that day at the end of the aisle and I knew you didn't tell me his age. I saw him and I continued walking. I went through with it and you have the nerve to tell me I'm a silly little girl?"

Her aunt silently sat still.

"I can make a decision on my own about when I'm ready to start laying with him and bare children."

"Put an end to these rumors," her aunt said sternly as she sat up, "put an end to them, immediately. For the sake of these children you speak of, for the sake of your husband, and for the sake of your reputation."

Ruth didn't bid her farewell and watched her walk out of the dining room. She didn't know Laura had been leaning against the wall and listening in.

"I have a feeling we won't be seeing her for awhile," Laura joked as she gathered up the tea tray. Ruth was still fuming and Jean walked into the room looking or her. Her aunt had smacked him in the leg with her cane as she passed him outside.

"Why are you limping, Mr. Villeneuve?" Laura smirked.

"Your aunt is a madwoman. What happened?" Jean said as he sat down in the chair that faced Ruth. She was fuming quietly, he noticed.

"Some words were exchanged," Laura said over her shoulder before she left the room.

Jean leaned back in the chair and decided to keep quiet and let Ruth speak on her own terms. She looked over at the fireplace. Jean's old war saber hung above it, just below a painting of his grandfather. He resembled him quite a lot, she thought to herself, trying to distract herself from the anger she felt.

"Did you go hunting this morning?" Ruth asked suddenly. He sat up.

"Yes."

"Did you really?" Ruth asked. Her aunt had put thoughts into her head again. She had already been struggling with those ideas for quit awhile. She had pushed them down but between her aunt and Jeremiah, she began to wonder if they knew something she didn't.

"Yes," Jean seemed confused. Ruth stood up and left the room without saying anything further.

…

A few hours passed and Jean decided to knock on the bedroom door. He knew he'd see her sitting on the bed staring at the portraits above the fireplace. She looked up at him as he stood there for a few moments.

"Your cousin Dan has an announcement," Jean said. He had been talking to Dan that morning before he headed back to Pembroke. He mentioned that he had some exciting news but he wanted both sides of his family to go to Pembroke and stay for a celebration.

"What sort of announcement?" Ruth sounded a bit worried.

"He wouldn't tell me but he wants us in Pembroke within the next couple days," Jean informed her gently. He knew she was in a terrible mood and he didn't want to sound forceful with her.

"He wants the entire family there," Jean said with a bit of excitement in his voice. Ruth perked up. She had an idea what it was but she didn't want to be too sure.

"The entire family?" Ruth seemed a bit worried about the implications. She didn't know if she wanted to be cramped up with her aunt for a couple days.

"We will leave in the morning," Jean said before leaving the room. Ruth's stomach clenched in worry.


	12. the Curse of Ruth

**I thought I'd upload a second chapter tonight to make up for the lost time…**

**My tumblr is lizzywhimsy now. I changed my username. **

**Chapter 12: The Curse of Ruth**

The small wagon bumped and Ruth held onto the edge so she wouldn't fall out. She tried to relax and looked back at the trunk strapped to the back to make sure it was alright. Ruth had brought a small quilt she had been working on since she arrived in her new house. She had a gut feeling that Dan and his new wife were expecting. It was the only reason Dan would ever call the entire family to Pembroke. Ruth hadn't seen many of the people that would be there for nearly ten years. Other she had lost contact with after the war. Their family had scattered a bit in the past few years. She didn't know whether to be excited or worried about who she would see, or who she wouldn't.

It was a long journey there and when they had finally arrived, it was late at night. Ruth suspected it was past midnight. Jean decided not to stop at an Inn and keep going. He had lit one of the lanterns he brought and hung it to see where they were going. It had been a bright night. The moon was full and the stars were out, which kept them safe. Dan opened the door in his night shirt and shook his head.

"I don't like Inns," Jean bluntly reminded Dan, "You should know why." Ruth rolled her eyes and walked behind him to go upstairs.

"I hope we didn't wake her," Ruth whispered.

"No, I was already awake," Dan responded, "Your husband is a mad man."

"I wanted to stop for the night but he didn't want to," Ruth said under her breath. Jean opened the door of the room they were staying in and gently put the small trunk down on the bed. Dan bid them goodnight and went back to his room.

Ruth looked around the room. It was the same one she and Jean had shared on their wedding night. Jean tiredly lit a candle and laid on the bed. Ruth sat down and watched the candle flame.

"Aren't you going to remove your boots?" Ruth whispered over to him. He was fast asleep already. Ruth stood up and moved the trunk. She opened it and took out the quilt, laying it across the back of a chair. She looked over at Jean's boots and shook her head. she decided to remove them herself. They were mussed up a bit with some dirt and she didn't want the bed's fine quilt, which Dan's wife had spent so much time on, getting ruined.

….

Ruth awoke to the sounds of women giggling downstairs and the smells of breakfast. Jean had already woken up. He was shining his boots. Ruth heard a knock on the door and quickly threw on her dressing robe before Jean opened the door. Her cousin's wife was smiling.

"We need Ruth," she said jovially, "Auntie wants her to make the biscuits. She always knows how to make them so well."

Ruth groggily stood up and started getting dressed. She put on her corset tiredly and stood for a few moments trying to wake up. She suddenly felt her strings being tightened and she gasped only to realize that Jean was helping her.

"I'm a bit surprised," Ruth muttered.

"I know how to tie stays," Jean chuckled, "My late wife always needed help when a maid couldn't come and do it for her."

"I could have done it myself, though."

"I wouldn't want everyone to miss out on those biscuits," Jean joked, "they are very good."

Ruth smiled and let him tie her stays before she quickly assembled a dress and left the room.

She headed downstairs to the kitchen and pushed her way through the group of women. Everything was set up for her so she could start. She was mixing the dough when a sudden commotion startled her.

"The Martins are here!" one of the women said happily as they all scrambled out of the kitchen to greet their new arrivals.

Ruth reveled in the silence and kneaded the dough happily without having to worry about crowding. She suddenly heard a small squeak and looked back to see Margaret coming into the room to hug her. She tried not to mess up Margaret's dress but accidentally got dough on it.

"Oh, it's no problem," Margaret said happily, "I wore this for the trip is all. It's got mud up to my knees on the hem."

Ruth looked down. Margaret had not been joking. Her dress was incredibly soiled.

"One of the wagons got stuck and I had to get out so they could push it," she said jovially. Ruth was a bit surprised by her rosy demeanor. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright as if something amazing had happened.

"I've been worrying about my dress but I wanted to tell you I'm engaged!" Margaret laughed. It made sense to Ruth now.

"And to a good man too," Charlotte butted in suddenly, "The wedding is in two weeks, Ruth."

"Oh," Ruth put on a smile, "I do love weddings."

"I was hoping you could make my dress," Margaret said suddenly.

"Isn't your aunt going to have her seamstress for it for you?" Ruth seemed a shocked.

"She insisted you do it," Charlotte said as she looked over at the dough.

"It would mean more to me that you did it," Margaret smiled, "and besides, I can't stand Aunt Charlotte's seamstress. She pokes me with the needles. Her eyesight is failing too."

"I- I suppose I could," Ruth agreed. It would fill her time for the next couple weeks, she thought to herself. There wasn't much to do around the house since she had cleaned it up a couple months before with Laura.

Margaret threw her arms around Ruth again, getting dough all over herself again. She skipped out of the room to change and Charlotte leaned on the table, standing quietly for a few moments.

"Are you alright Ruth?"

"I'm a bit tired is all," Ruth said before she continued to pound on the dough, "I didn't get much sleep. Jean refused to stop at an Inn last night," Ruth vented, "and we arrived past midnight. I don't think I fell asleep until two in the morning."

"Oh dear," Charlotte sounded genuinely concerned.

Ruth finally finished the dough and covered it with a cloth to let it rise for a bit. She took a deep breath and sat in a chair at the table.

…..

That morning Dan had gathered everyone at the church. The reverend allowed him to stand at the front to say what he wanted to before he began service.

"I wanted to let everyone know that Jane and I are expecting our first child," he said without any pomp. The announcement was quick. Dan was never one to try and draw out his announcements. It was a bit surprising to Ruth that he decided to have everyone come and stay for a bit and to have a celebration but Ruth figured that was upon the insistence of his new wife. She was a lot more social than Dan was used to and she loved to celebrations. She had been cooking since early in the morning to prepare a big dinner. She had been planning a large party that was to be held at the Tavern, where everyone could fit.

A commotion of claps and congratulatory remarks ensued. However, Ruth saw both her aunts look back at her quickly when the announcement was made. They shook their heads. Ruth even heard someone whisper, "now if only little Ruth could follow in her footsteps."

Ruth had by then learned to shake it off. She had been married to Jean for only a few short months and she had grown used to the comments. She didn't like to hear them but she was learning to keep it from bothering her. Jean, however, was getting angrier. Some of the comments made him wish he could pick up his entire house and leave for another town with Ruth, where everyone wouldn't make comments. He saw that she was handling remarkably well and decided to calm down.

…..

Ruth rolled the quilt tightly and tied some ribbon she had found around it before tucking it under her arm. She joined her husband and walked to the Tavern with him. It was a chilly day and Ruth bit her teeth through it. She didn't want to complain. When they reached the tavern she saw Jane standing int he doorway with a huge smile. She saw the roll under Ruth's arm and clapped a bit in excitement.

"I was highly suspicious that the announcement would be what it was, so I brought you this baby quilt," Ruth said as she handed it to her, "I figured you and my cousin would be expecting soon so I worked on it."

Jane hugged it in thanks and rubbed Ruth's arm. Jean had politely excused himself when Ben and a few of the men waved him over.

"I know everyone gives you a hard time about it, but I have faith in you, Ruth," she winked, "Everyone is acting as if it's the end of times with the both of you but if you only knew what half of them are like in private, you wouldn't take their insults so heavily."

Ruth was relieved that she had an ally in the family. She smiled Jane led her to the table of women. She unrolled the quilt and held it up to show it off before sitting down and laying it on her lap. Ruth sat in a free spot and quietly listened to the worn at the table. Two hours passed without her saying a word. She wondered what the men were even discussing.

…..

"I see your wife made a quilt for the baby," one of the men said to Jean, "It's done quite well. I only wish my wife could sew."

"Your wife wouldn't touch a needle if her life depended upon it," one man joked back.

"She can cook, though," the man defended, "unlike yours."

Jean quietly sipped on his beer.

"It's a shame though," another man spoke up. He was a bit drunk already, "we wouldn't want the blanket to curse the baby. That cold shrew made it? Are they going to wrap the newborn in it? That's a bad omen, that is."

Jean put his mug down and Ben put his hand on his shoulder to keep him from standing up.

"Do the deed, already," the man laughed. The room had grown silent. His commotion had drawn everyone's attention. He stood up with his mug in his hand, "May all the future marriages in this family be blessed and not fall upon the curse of Ruth-"

Before he could finish saying anything else, Jean had broke free from Ben's grasp and had punched the man in the mouth. Ruth silently sat in horror. Jane grabbed her hand and Margaret held the other one.

All the women looked in Ruth's direction. Everything grew silent. Ruth had ignored it until then. Is that what they thought of her? a family curse? she thought to herself. That was far beyond anything she had heard before. She could handle the prodding and questioning but to be identified as a curse pushed everything to the edge. Jean shook his hand and several men helped the drunkard up. He looked back at Ruth. She could tell he was apologizing to her. She stood up from the table and backed away before leaving the room. The dead silence had not lifted from the party. Jean followed her out of the tavern.

She was walking so quickly he couldn't keep up with her. She stopped her pace and bent down, putting her hands on her knees so she could catch her breath and cry a bit without having to catch her breath. Jean finally caught up to her and she looked up at him.

"A curse?" Ruth cried, "A damn curse they call me?"

"I-"

"No," Ruth put her hand up to make him fall silent, "I'm finding it very difficult. I think about having children and I- I'm not ready for that, yet if this continues any further, I'll be shunned."

"I don't think they'll shun-"

"I know they will," Ruth said bluntly, "They did it my cousin. She married this horrid man and refused to share his bed. She was shunned and he kicked her into the streets after five years. She's Lord knows where now!"

Jean looked at her as she sat on the stump of a tree and tried to calm herself.

"I won't kick you into the streets," he tried assured her.

"No, I know you won't," Ruth muttered, "but I don't think I could bear the burden of being shunned from my family."

Jean scuffled over to her and sat next to her. They sat silently for a few minutes until they saw Jane running down the path with Dan.

"You shouldn't be running!" Ruth got up quickly when she saw her.

"Ruth!" Jane caught her breath, "He's insane. Please come back."

"He called me a curse," Ruth retorted, "and every person in that room looked at me as they agreed. Not a single person except for my husband stood up for me!"

"To be fair, Jean did what I wanted to," Dan joked, "Ben, well- he threw a punch after you two ran off."

Jean chuckled.

"It's obvious he got those words from somewhere," Ruth was not amused.

"Were you paying attention in church today, Ruth?"

Ruth had. In fact, she remembered the reverend talking about how it was honorable to be fruitful and abundant and that those out of God's favor were cursed to be barren. Ruth didn't think that it was just one sermon that drove the man to say the things he did. She knew what her family was whispering.

"Hezekiah is a crazy fool!" Dan laughed, "he's a zealot who attends church and drinks his weight in alcohol at the tavern. He's the town hypocrite, Ruth, and unfortunately, our cousin."

Jane took Ruth's hand and walked her back to the tavern.

"If anyone says another word, I promise I'll I've them a good tongue lashing," Jane joked. Ruth was not amused. She was nervous to even set foot back in the place. She she stood in the doorway, everyone grew silent and looked up at her. She quietly stepped foot into the room with Jane and sat down. It took awhile before the room filled with voices again. Ruth looked over at Hezekiah. He was propped up in a chair against the wall, away from the men. She smiled to herself at the sight. Ben lifted his mug when she looked his way. She nodded to him and saw Jean sneak back in to sit down. She felt warm inside at the thought that she had a handful of true friends.


End file.
